


This, and my heart beside

by Monna99



Series: Shinobi in Love [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-04 16:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12172818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monna99/pseuds/Monna99
Summary: Three years later Kakashi hasn't forgotten. Neither has Iruka.





	1. I ask but to forget

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I couldn't leave it at that! lol I had to add something else, but I'm not officially calling this the next part of _morning came_ , although it does follow because I like the first one as a stand-alone. Instead, I'm just going to add to this series whatever little snippets of KakaIru come to mind. I already know the third part will be linked to these two.
> 
> the title is again from a Dickinson poem
> 
> and: Thank you for the comments!!! I love reading those, so here you go!

It turned out being Hokage was pretty boring.

The level of peace attained among the villages, though still tentative, meant that the position of Hokage was almost that of a figurehead. Must be why Tsunade ditched him as soon as he was sworn in and took off to a council meeting with the other Kages. There had been a lot of talk of alcohol for a council meeting. 

Still, boring he could deal with, there was another much more dire effect of being made Hokage that he’d never anticipated. 

“Hokage-sama, what a pleasure to see you out and about.”

Kakashi waved in what he hoped was a friendly gesture that still conveyed he was VERY BUSY.

“A young man in his prime like you must get tired of those stuffy offices.”

The jounin picked up his speed, vaguely impressed that, old as she was, she was keeping pace without difficulty.

“I imagine your ... precious person must feel somewhat neglected,” she continued, fishing slyly.

Ibiki might have a use for her, he thought idly, then wondered if Tsunade had to put up with tiny old women playing matchmaker. Then again he preferred the tiny old women to Gai. Though Gai’s attempts at setting him up had been strangely absent for a while now. 

“He understands that this position requires a great deal of me,” Kakashi said, confessionally. It was stupid to pretend he was in a relationship in a village full of shinobi where secrets were just another challenge, but maybe it would help keep his skills from getting rusty. 

“I see.” The old woman stopped walking, looking disheartened. “Well, he’s a very lucky man.”

“Isn’t he?” Kakashi agreed and continued on his way with long, purposeful strides. He rounded the corner, but pulled up short and stayed just out of sight of the two men standing beneath the cedar tree outside of the academy.

He should have turned away immediately, there was nothing for him to see here and no reason for him to have come this way but he was arrested by the hesitant smile on the smaller shinobi’s face. Genma leaned closer, bodies all but touching, and brushed some nonexistent fleck from Iruka’s hair.

The sudden acceleration of his pulse and minute tightening of his muscles surprised Kakashi. He wondered at that reaction. Didn’t even know what he was reacting to, really. Some illogical remnant of possessiveness from the short months that he’d had the chuunin? Not likely. He’d had other lovers - though Umino hadn’t been a lover he’d been a mission, Kakashi reminded himself - and he’d never been possessive.

“Hokage-sama.” The ANBU appeared at his back, a respectful distance away.

Kakashi took the proffered message dismissing the ANBU with a nod. The seal was Jiraya’s. The man liked to keep Kakashi informed about Naruto’s progress given that Naruto wasn’t much for writing letters. He quickly scanned through the note, absently grinning at Naruto’s antics, and wondered how often Naruto wrote to Iruka. Surely the chuunin would want to know every bit of news that came in about Naruto? He looked up in time to see Genma throw an arm around Iruka’s shoulders and pull him close, their heads bowed together. 

He looked away, glancing back down to the letter realizing with irritation he’d crushed it in his fist. Well, at least it was still legible. 

 

“Hokage-sama,” Iruka acknowledged after a shocked moment. He bowed shortly and a little stiffly, but to his credit that was the only indication of his personal distaste for Kakashi.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked, looking around at the curious faces peering at him from behind their sensei.

Iruka glanced back as though only then realizing he had about twenty kids whispering behind him. “Oh. No, they’re about to break for lunch.” Which the Hokage would know. Iruka didn’t bother to point that out, he turned to the kids and clapped sharply, instantly getting them to quiet down.

Kakashi raised an impressed eyebrow. That trick would have come in very handy with Team 7. 

“Everyone, pay attention. I’m sure you all know who this is.” Iruka pointed vaguely, a little rudely, in Kakashi’s direction and Kakashi was grateful his mask hid his inappropriate grin. “Now, this is very important. I want you all to represent our Academy proudly and greet the Hokage in the proper manner.”

“Sensei, really,” Kakashi tried to object. It was too late. The kids were already pushing and shoving one another into a single file line and one by one they began to painstakingly bow and say _Hokage-sama, thank you for protecting our village_. 

Kakashi started to sweat a little about halfway through. He would never have thought that Iruka was capable of this level of malevolence, but he was certain that this was some form of slow mental torture. He looked at Iruka but the man was the picture of benevolence and moral rectitude. Finally, the last genin mumbled his way through the rote line and scuttled out.

“Well. Thank you,” he murmured respectfully, figuring it was expected.

Iruka only nodded and turned away under the guise of straightening up his classroom though it didn’t take the Sharingan to see the tension vibrating through his frame. It made his skin itch to see it there when he could too-clearly remember a time when Iruka had been happy and relaxed in his presence. He shook his head, clearing those pointless thoughts.

“I have something for you.” He tried not to take it personally when Iruka took a stick and started beating a mat with extra gusto. “It’s from Jiraiya.” Ah. Those were the magic words.

The chunin stopped punishing the hapless padding. “Jiraiya-sama?” His expression brightened. 

Kakashi basked in that warmth even though he knew it wasn’t for him. It was feeling the sun on his skin after a very long winter. 

“He wrote to me about Naruto. I thought you might want to read it.”

Iruka- Umino-san, he corrected silently, looked surprised. Unduly so, Kakashi thought wryly. He wouldn’t deny a shinobi news about their loved one. Not without a reason. 

He held out the crumpled paper. Even with the lure of news about Naruto, it was still a full minute before the chuunin moved forward and then it was only to step into range of the letter and pluck it from Kakashi’s fingers while studiously avoiding any contact between them. He immediately stepped back.

Iruka raised a questioning eyebrow at the state of the note as he smoothed out the crushed sheet.

Kakashi shrugged, not caring to explain, empty fingers curling at an imagined warmth. He shoved his hands in his pockets, studying Iruka as he read the letter. 

Three years was not much time. At his age, it felt like nothing at all, but these three years … 

His eyes tracked the curl of the scar over that slim, brown nose then his gaze dipped to the curve of Iruka’s lips as he grinned over Jiraya’s untidy scrawl. The cut of Iruka’s cheekbones seemed more pronounced and Kakashi tried not to estimate how much weight he’d lost.

“... one bit.”

Kakashi blinked as he focused on smiling brown eyes. 

“Sorry?”

The smile in those eyes vanished and Kakashi stepped forward only to draw up sharply when Iruka withdrew. 

“I said that Naruto hasn’t changed,” the chunin repeated, clearing his throat.

“Right.” Kakashi scratched the back of his head. “He hasn’t. He just changes everyone around him.”

Neither said anything more and Kakashi could see Iruka wondering why he was still hanging around. He could see the chunin looking for a polite, or even not-so-polite, way to ask him to leave.

“It’s lunchtime,” he blurted.

Iruka stared at him as though he was slow. “Yes?”

“Well, I certainly don’t want you to miss it because of me,” Kakashi said with forced nonchalance. “We can get something at Ichiraku before your students are due back.”

Iruka’s expression closed, shuttered, lips pinched together. “I brought a bento,” he stated sharply.

“Right.” Yeah, that had been too much to hope for. He didn’t move, didn’t leave, only continued to study Iruka. This was the closest the other man had let him get in three years.

Iruka’s eyes strayed to the white jacket Kakashi wore that was customary for Hokages. “I never did congratulate you on being named Hokage,” he murmured, almost absently.

Kakashi leaned back against the desk. “Well, you weren’t at the ceremony and we don’t exactly run into each other a lot.”

In fact, they ran into each other so little that it could only be by design. Iruka had quit volunteering at the mission desk and since the Sandaime’s death he never visited the Hokage’s office. 

The chunin looked away. “Right. I was … busy.” He winced as the words left his mouth, as though realizing how outrageous it was to tell his Hokage that he’d been too busy to attend the naming of the sixth Kage. It was customary for the entire village to be present. 

Kakashi shrugged. “Sure.”

Iruka crossed his arms. “So … you knew I wasn’t there?”

“I knew.” 

He frowned, confused when the chunin’s lips twisted in a bitter smile. “Am I back on the suspect list? The ANBU keeping a close eye on me again?”

Kakashi’s stomach roiled and he turned away. “You’re never going back on that list,” he revealed softly.

“You put in a good word for me, did you?” Iruka asked acerbically, polite mask slipping.

The copy-nin stopped, hand gripping the doorframe. “Something like that.” He glanced back at Iruka and unbidden he saw the image of the chunin stretched out on his bed, gasping, reaching, whimpering _Yes, oh please. Kakashi. More._ He closed his visible eye but that only made that memory sharper, more focused. 

The chunin looked away, arms crossed defensively, though he looked more like he was clutching at himself. “I guess I should thank you,” he said unenthusiastically. 

“No,” the copy-nin bit out harshly before he could stop the word.

Iruka jerked, startled.

“Don’t thank me.” Kakashi unclenched his fists. “Just … try to forget the pain I caused.”

He left Iruka gaping behind him.

> "Oh Memory, torture me no more,  
>  The present's all o'ercast;  
>  My hopes of future bliss are o'er,  
>  In mercy veil the past.  
>  Why bring those images to view  
>  I henceforth must resign?  
>  Ah! why those happy hours renew,  
>  That never can be mine?  
>  Past pleasure doubles present pain,  
>  To sorrow adds regret,  
>  Regret and hope are both in vain,  
>  I ask but to — forget."
> 
> Lord Byron (GEORGE GORDON)


	2. tears fell down, I did not mourn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what I'm doing with this anymore lol 
> 
> Improvisation time! I'm adding chapters. Yay?
> 
> Anywho: thanks again for the comments, peeps! Love 'em! Here's another little snippet. (I'm on a KakaIru high right now :D)

“Hokage-sama.”

Kakashi raised his head from the stack of paperwork where it was buried. 

“The Academy has been attacked.”

The sharp, acrid spike of adrenaline was a mild surprise. He slowly and purposefully set his pen down. There was only one question that mattered for the moment. “Are there casualties?”

“Unknown.”

Kakashi didn’t wait to hear more. He used a transportation jutsu to instantly teleport to the Academy grounds, ignoring Shikamaru-kun who was halfheartedly attempting to convince him to stay behind in case it was a trap. 

The news had spread fast. The Academy was already overrun with neighboring shinobi securing and locking down the school. 

“Status!” Shikamaru barked at one of the chunin hurrying from the building. 

“ANBU-san, the school has been secured but we’re keeping the children inside as a precaution. One of the missing-nin managed to get away. He was spotted headed north and several jounin are pursuing.”

“Which jounin-”

“Casualties?” Kakashi interrupted harshly.

The chunin jumped. “Umm, umm, tw-two chunin, sir.”

There was a curious lack of feeling at the news. 

“What are the names?”

Shikamaru was eyeing him sidelong. Kakashi kept his eyes trained on the poor, unfortunate chunin who looked petrified. “I-I don’t k-know, Hokage-sama.”

“Hokage-sama-”

Kakashi didn’t bother to wait around. He moved swiftly to Iruka’s classroom.

The room stood dark and empty of any students.

“Where are they?” he demanded, not bothering to glance at the jounin in the room. 

“Sir,” the man saluted, “all the students, as well as staff, have been safeguarded in the auditorium.”

Kakashi didn’t immediately move. “Do you know the names of the two chunin killed?”

The jounin’s expression betrayed no surprise at the question, only his pause gave him away. “No, sir.”

Kakashi turned away. His steps fell without a whisper of sound in the silent hall - silent despite the two dozen shinobi standing sentry. Too silent for a school with young children. His primary concern should be those children. And they were, but they were safe. Now he needed to know if … 

He didn’t let the thought form. Quickly, he pulled out a scroll and went through the hand seals, pricking his finger and trailing his blood on the ink. The summoning was instant, all the dogs surrounded him. Pakkun looked grim. “Go with the ANBU and track the missing-nin. I want him back alive.” He turned to Shikamaru who’d followed him silently. “Make sure the watchtowers have been put on alert and bring me Ibiki.” 

The young man and two other ANBU were gone instantly along with the nin-dogs.

Even standing right outside the auditorium doors he could not make out any noise within. He gestured to the two jounin who’d posted themselves at the entrance and they gave a discreet four-knock signal. 

The door swung inward slightly revealing a battered chunin, a bruise forming on one cheekbone and drying blood caked over one ear. Hard to tell if the blood was from a blow or a cut, the dark hair that had come loose from his usual ponytail covered the injury. 

“Iruka,” he said roughly. 

The chunin seemed to sway slightly, clutching at the door, and Kakashi put an automatic hand out as support. The young man shifted forward and their hands met, fingers locking and Kakashi felt the ice that had enveloped him beginning to crack and splinter.

One of the jounin shifted and Iruka instantly pulled back, hand jerking away. 

“Have you seen a medi-nin?” Kakashi asked after a beat.

Iruka looked at the ground. “No, Hokage-sama. But if the academy is secure now, some of these kids do need additional medical attention. For minor injuries,” he added hastily, looking up at the Kage’s expression.

Kakashi nodded. “Are all the students accounted for?”

“Yes, Hokage-sama.”

“I’ll need the list of all of them as well as any staff in attendance today.”

Iruka nodded and retreated into the room calling for another teacher. His voice broke the eerie silence in the room and the kids began to shuffle and murmur among one another, voices getting progressively louder. One child began to cry. 

He turned to the jounin. “Take the list of all the students, contact their parents or guardians and have them wait at the gates. The children are to be released only to known adults and only after they receive medical attention.” 

Both jounin inclined their heads.

“Umino-san will direct the release of the children and make sure he-” He didn’t betray his irritation with himself at the slip. “Make sure the staff receive medical attention as well.”

“Yes, sir.”

The children were safe. Iruka- the staff were safe. Now he had other duties to fulfill. He needed to meet with Ibiki and find out who the dead missing-nin was. He also needed to make sure death notifications were made to the clans of the two dead chunin. He had to leave, there was far more to do and he wanted to make sure any danger to the village has passed.

It was still difficult to convince his feet. He glanced one last time through the crack in the door and saw Iruka bending down to comfort one of the genin. He averted his gaze, conscious of the other shinobi present. He’d given away too much already and that wouldn’t do. A weak Hokage made for a weak village. He walked away.

 

“Well?”

Ibiki looked grim. “I have good news and I have bad news.”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “There’s good news in this mess?”

The man grimaced. “Good news from the perspective of the village, not necessarily yours.”

Kakashi took a seat behind his desk. He wanted nothing more than to follow the ANBU and corner the man responsible for shedding blood in Konoha, but that was no longer his role. Not unless there was no choice. He had to stay to protect the village. “I don’t have the patience for guessing games, Ibiki-san,” he said lightly.

“They weren’t after the genin or even the Academy,” the ANBU said promptly. “There would have been many more killed if that were the case.” 

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed. “They had a specific target?” He shook his head, thinking. “There is nothing of value there and the only shinobi at the Academy are chunin. Are you telling me two jounin-level missing-nin risked almost sure death or capture to kill a teacher? They wouldn’t give a chunin that much importance.”

Ibiki gazed at the copy-nin unblinking. “They would if that chunin were the Hokage’s lover,” he said bluntly. “They would place a lot of importance on him then.”

Kakashi didn’t move. 

“But,” Ibiki continued, “I don’t think this has to do with you being Hokage.” He pulled a bloody hitae-ate from his vest and tossed it onto the desk. “The missing-nin killed has been identified as Gottarou Shiyu from the Rain Village.” Ibiki nodded at the hitae-ate. “Gottarou’s brother was-”

“Gottarou Saitou.”

Ibiki acceded.

“Big brother wants revenge.”

“Yes. My guess is he wanted you to lose someone you … care for.” 

Kakashi did not respond.

“He couldn’t get to you directly and Uzumaki is with one of the legendary sannin, plus he’s the host of the Nine-Tails, that would have posed too great a challenge. He chose the target that was easiest to access.”

“But he didn’t kill Umino.”

Ibiki shrugged. “Not for lack of trying, I understand. The teachers held them off long enough for the jounin to arrive. Unfortunately, not without sustaining losses.”

He’d grown complacent, Kakashi thought. He’d believed Iruka safe, cloistered away in the heart of Konoha, and now two of Konoha’s shinobi were dead. And he couldn’t stop hearing Ibiki’s words: _not for lack of trying_. He shouldn’t be thinking about that, he shouldn’t be thinking about the chunin at all but in three years he hadn’t found a way to stop.

Ibiki was studying him covertly. 

“Who are the jounin in pursuit?”

“Genma, Gai, Lee, and Kurenai.”

“Any idea who this other missing nin might be?”

“Mm.” Ibiki rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “I have my suspicions.” He eyed Kakashi. “This might be the end of it. If this was about revenge now that the brother is dead there may be no more attempts against your- against Umino.”

The copy-nin leaned back, waiting.

“But I may be wrong, there could always be more attempts on his life.” When Kakashi didn’t say anything Ibiki sighed gustily. “He could be placed under jounin guard.”

Kakashi smiled behind his mask, though he wasn’t amused. “You think Umino-san will accept leaving his students, leaving a job he loves, and being shadowed every moment of his day?”

Ibiki shrugged. “I couldn’t say.”

“I could,” Kakashi asserted. “No guards.” He was very conscious of having just confirmed that Iruka was his lover, something that had never really been true but the truth wouldn’t change what had happened it would only leave Iruka more vulnerable. 

“He is a shinobi, Hokage-sama,” Ibiki countered. “If you ordered-”

“I’m ordering you to find out how two missing-nin made it into Konoha and went undetected until they reached the Academy.” 

Ibiki gave a clipped nod. “I am looking into that. You’ll have my report by tomorrow. And, as far as the Academy-”

“I will post a jounin at the school daily for added security.” Kakashi ignored the older man’s raised eyebrow at the excessive measure. “Anything else?”

Ibiki opened his mouth but shut it and straightened as he sensed a flare of chakra. 

Kakashi looked to the shadowed corner of the room. “What did you find?”

“We have him, Hokage-sama,” Shikamaru said quietly. 

Ibiki stood. “I will find out what we need to know,” the man said grimly.

Shikamaru remained enveloped in shadow and Kakashi’s eyes narrowed. The scent of blood was beginning to permeate the air. He lifted the hitae-ate covering his eye and activated the Sharingan. 

“Hokage-sama-” Shikamaru began in protest.

The young man quieted as Kurenai’s chakra flared outside the office. The door flew open, and she approached quickly, her anger unmistakable despite her outward composure. “Hokage-sama, forgive me for interrupting.”

Kakashi waved her in.

“Kurenai-” Shikamaru began.

“Shikamaru was hurt during the recovery of the missing-nin. I respectfully request that he be dismissed to seek a medi-nin.”

Kakashi glanced at Shikamaru, focusing on him with the Sharingan. He was bleeding pretty extensively and his chakra flow was fractured.

“I can do my duty,” Shikamaru bit out.

Kurenai rounded on him. “You have done your duty. We captured him.” She moved to the shadows but stayed a respectful distance away. “You’re not the only shinobi in Konoha. Let others do their part now.”

“I will not-”

“You will,” Kakashi interrupted. “Kurenai, make sure he receives medical attention. I will go with Ibiki and oversee the interrogation.”

Shikamaru looked ready to protest but Kurenai said something not meant for the other men in the room and the young ANBU’s shoulders slumped and he nodded. 

“Lead the way,” Kakashi said, turning to Ibiki.

> [Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle]  
> 
> 
> A. E. Housman, 1859 - 1936  
> 
> 
> Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle,  
>  Earth and high heaven are fixt of old and founded strong.  
>  Think rather,—call to thought, if now you grieve a little,  
>  The days when we had rest, O soul, for they were long.
> 
> Men loved unkindness then, but lightless in the quarry  
>  I slept and saw not; tears fell down, I did not mourn;  
>  Sweat ran and blood sprang out and I was never sorry:  
>  Then it was well with me, in days ere I was born.


	3. he would not stay for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Comments!!! lol, thank you for the lovely things you've said. 
> 
> I got a little ahead of myself in this chapter but that's how it goes ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I may just revise it later but i wanted to post it already 'cause I get impatient :D

The missing-nin’s upper body was riddled with scars. The latest was a deep four-inch gash on his lower right side courtesy of the shadow user. It had nearly been a fatal wound but the medi-nin had acted quickly. Kakashi had made certain of that. He wanted answers and a dead shinobi could not give them. 

He leaned back against the white, nondescript wall in the interrogation room. 

“What is your name?”

The shinobi was silent.

“You’re a missing-nin from the Rain Village.” Ibiki opened a file that Kakashi was pretty certain contained nothing more than last month’s expenditure report.

The jounin was still silent.

“You are the accomplice of Gottarou Shiyu. Have you already been informed that he was killed?”

The man was perfectly still, not a movement, not a flicker. “Show me the Sharingan,” he said suddenly, the first words since his capture.

Kakashi raised a lazy eyebrow. 

The missing-nin stared at him fixedly. There was a gleam of fanaticism in his eyes. “I want to see the Sharingan.”

“And I want answers,” Kakashi said mildly. “Maybe we can help each other out.”

The man continued to stare. “Gottarou was nothing.”

“Really?” Kakashi studied his nails. “That’s strange. You chose to go on a suicide mission with him.”

“He was the only one who could get me this close.”

“Close to me?”

“Close to it.” The man was peering at the hitae-ate that covered the trademark eye of the Uchiha clan. “I want to see it.”

“I do love to show it off,” Kakashi drawled. “Why don’t you give me your name? If I’m going to show you the Sharingan, I want to know who I’m dealing with." Ibiki didn’t so much as shift in his seat but his posture radiated his protest loudly. “And then you’re going to fill me in on a few details.”

 

Heavyweight wisteria vines coiled around a high wall of trellis on the outskirts of Konoha and formed a half-canopy overhead. It was beautiful in the spring when the flowers were in bloom and the honeyed scent hung rich the air. Now, in the chilly rain and brisk autumn breeze, the vines were all-but barren and the only sound was the moan of the wind and the crunch of leaves underfoot. It had the hushed quality of reverence. 

The wind picked up and Iruka shivered in his dark uniform shirt. He should have worn something warmer, at least worn his vest. But he hadn’t been thinking about the cold when he wandered outside, he hadn’t been thinking about anything other than his own helplessness as two friends and coworkers were killed. What would he say to his students?

The Academy was still closed, but come Monday they would be in their seats again and they would be looking to Iruka and the other teachers to provide them with answers, with closure. They would want their teachers to give them that magical salve that would make it stop hurting. Iruka didn’t have that salve. No one did. 

There was a footstep behind him and Iruka whirled, kunai already in hand. 

“Sorry,” Kakashi said softly and Iruka practically went slack with relief. He hadn’t realized how on-edge he was. “I wasn’t trying to startle you.”

“Hokage-sama,” he said evenly, pretending his heart wasn’t still trying to climb out of his throat.

The jounin approached, letting his footsteps ring out. 

A little late for that, Iruka thought wryly.

“Umino-san.” 

Iruka waited but there was nothing else forthcoming. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Kakashi cleared his throat and, if he were a man capable of it, Iruka would have said the jounin was nervous. “I need to speak with you.”

He fought the urge to put more space between them. He was feeling a little claustrophobic despite the open space. “I’m listening.”

“In private.”

Kakashi tried not to take it personally when Iruka hesitated. “Okay.” He looked around pointedly at the clear line of sight they had in all directions. “This seems like a good place.”

“Not here. We can do it at your apartment or mine.”

The chunin stiffened, eyes narrowing. “I would prefer the Hokage’s office.”

“I would not.”

Iruka wanted nothing more than to tell the jounin to go to hell, but he paused at the man’s tone. The Hokage’s office was secure, but it was definitely not private. Apparently, he was serious about that. Still, he wanted Kakashi back in his apartment about as much as he wanted another giant shuriken in the back. “We don’t have any private matters to discuss, Hokage-sama,” he hedged. 

The jounin did not respond, only continued to stare until Iruka sighed. “Your apartment,” he finally answered.

Kakashi pretended he didn’t hear the heavy reluctance in the other man’s tone. “Let’s go.”

Iruka had been to Kakashi’s apartment exactly once before and it wasn’t because he’d been invited. It was one more thing he hadn’t let himself analyze when he’d been with the jounin. One more thing he had stupidly justified to himself as just a harmless quirk of an ex-ANBU. He should have listened to his instincts. Maybe he’d deserved to have his heart broken.

“Pardon the intrusion,” he murmured a little awkwardly, unable to forego a lifetime of drilled manners.

Thankfully, Kakashi wasn’t laughing at him. He waved Iruka in and made himself scarce in the kitchen. 

Iruka looked around curiously. The walls in the living space were barren of any personal touches. He walked over to a lonely, dilapidated bookshelf that stood propped against one end of the room with a few books and a solitary picture frame. He smiled faintly at the glare Naruto was directing Sasuke-kun’s way. They looked so young and untroubled. He picked up the light frame, caressing the grainy wood under his thumb. “You did an incredible job with them,” he said to the jounin as the man stepped in close behind Iruka. It was impossible not to be aware of him. He felt his presence keenly on every inch of his body. Too bad that alarm system hadn’t kicked in earlier. 

“Not good enough,” Kakashi returned, studying the image over the chunin’s shoulder.

Iruka carefully set the picture down, gathering his thoughts. “Sasuke’s choices are his own,” he said definitively. “You didn’t know - neither of us knew - the extent of the secrets that surrounded him, but you trained him, listened to him, protected him, cared for him.” He could feel the jounin’s unblinking gaze. “There is only so much we can do, then we have to give them their freedom, even if their choices run counter to what we taught, even when they cause us pain.” Iruka studied the children in the photograph. “You did everything you could for them and that’s why Sakura-chan and Naruto love you. I’m sure Sasuke-kun does too, even if he won’t let himself remember.”

Kakashi was silent and the chunin shifted to turn around, to try and convince Kakashi, because even if the man had hurt him, that had no bearing on him as a teacher, but Kakashi placed his hands on Iruka’s shoulders, keeping him from moving and he hated that the touch made his skin spark with sensation even through the layers of clothing.

“What-?”

“You really believe that don’t you?” Kakashi asked in a soft undertone. “You believe that I did everything I could to help Sasuke.”

“I know you did,” the chunin affirmed, not a hint of doubt in his tone. 

“Iruka.”

The tone was rough, heavy with emotion he couldn’t decipher, didn’t have time because Kakashi shifted forward, the heat of his body a nearly physical caress down the line of his back. The jounin’s arms care around his waist, a familiar, painful weight that pulled him back against that lithe, solid body.

“No-” he began, feeling a wave of anger, of indignation that Kakashi should do this. But the jounin pressed himself more firmly, one hand lifting to tilt Iruka’s head back against his shoulder, lips trailing over his ear, breath warm on his temple and he gasped, hand settling over the jounin’s but he didn’t know if it was to push him away or pull him closer.

“Yes,” Kakashi murmured. “Yes, Iruka.” And his lips found all those places on his neck that made him whimper and ache. He kissed and nibbled and licked, pulling his shirt aside to suck a bruise onto the chunin’s bare shoulder, then bite down with just a hint of pain that made Iruka’s hips jerk.

Kakashi was hard against his back, that delicious promise of what he could have making his knees weak. God, he thought he’d forgotten this, forgotten the feeling of Kakashi’s lips and arms but he’d only shoved it down and not far enough because in a second it was all there boiling to the surface again.

“I need this, Iruka. I need you,” Kakashi whispered heatedly, sweetly kissing Iruka’s temple as his hand swept down and cupped Iruka through his pants, squeezing so that he whimpered and nearly came there and then as though no one else had touched him in three years. And that was so unfair that he turned in the other man’s arms and shoved him away, fury building to eclipse the desire that had nearly upset his reason. 

“No.”

Kakashi caught himself, taken off guard by the sudden shift, a dangerous gleam entering his eyes that quickly vanished. He straightened his mask, Iruka only then realizing that he’d removed it. The hitae-ate had been knocked askew.

His hands tightened into fists, the desire to hit Kakashi nearly overwhelming. What the hell right did he have to bring all this back for Iruka? He’d never thought Kakashi deliberately cruel before. He could chalk it up to emotions running high in the wake of a tragedy, but the jounin was too controlled, had always been too controlled to let his emotions overrule him.

“I’m leaving. Get out of my way,” he grit out. 

Kakashi studied him impassively, though the glitter in his eyes betrayed his arousal. “No.”

Iruka took a discreet breath and did not launch himself at the jounin. There was a feral knife-edge to Kakashi’s aura that he didn’t understand. 

“You lied to me.” He wasn’t even sure whether he was referring to today or three years ago when the man had run a mission on him. 

Kakashi heard both accusations. “I can’t let you leave yet, I do need to speak with you.” He moved away and motioned for the chunin to follow.

Iruka considered leaving anyway, but the tension in the jounin’s shoulders told him that was a bad idea. He’d never even make it to the door. Still hard, he walked with as much dignity as he could muster and sat at the kitchen table. 

“Tea?” Kakashi asked and Iruka nearly choked on the inappropriate laugh that bubbled up. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Take it however you want,” he bit out rudely, past caring about maintaining the polite facade. 

Kakashi raised an eyebrow lazily making Iruka want to throttle him even more. “Iruka-”

“You’re too familiar,” he snapped.

The jounin’s lips tightened. “Umino-san.” He took a breath. “I need to talk to you about the attack on the Academy.”

That served to shut Iruka up. 

“Have you heard anything in the last few days about why the attack happened?”

“Only conjecture. You haven’t given an official statement,” he said, mind whirling. 

“I’ll be giving an official statement later today.”

Iruka frowned. “But it won’t be the complete truth,” he hazarded. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Everything.” Kakashi laced his fingers. He wasn’t quite meeting Iruka’s eyes. “One of the missing-nin who attacked the school was the brother of a shinobi I killed.”

Iruka was unmoving. “He attacked the school in revenge?” He shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“He didn’t care about the school, he had a specific target in mind.”

Iruka looked blank.

“Gottarou Shiyu wanted to hurt me specifically.”

“Then someone should have told him where the Hokage’s office was.” He was immediately ashamed at having said the words. They were beneath him. “I’m sorry,” he said after a beat, truly contrite.

Kakashi waved that away. “He wanted to take people from me. People I care about.”

Iruka’s heart constricted in painful ways and a pointless, stupid hope flared. He doused that flame and forced himself to think practically. They’d had a specific target and the second missing-nin had retreated after they had killed two teachers. Surely that meant they had accomplished their mission? “Who were they after?”

The jounin rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “They were after you, Umino-san,” he said shortly. “News reached them that I had a lover. They wanted to hurt me through you.”

Iruka jerked his head up, mouth agape. “I was a mission,” he protested.

Kakashi opened his mouth to agree, but … couldn’t. “Their information stated that you and I had been lovers for a period of eight months. You know as well as I do how significant that length of time is for shinobi.”

“Sure. For actual lovers. Didn’t they get the memo that I didn’t mean anything to you?” he grumbled, ignoring the pounding of his pulse. 

“Umino-san,” Kakashi said quietly, ignoring the outburst. “I’m very sorry for putting you in harm’s way.”

Iruka gaped. “What?”

“Haven’t you realized? They killed your friends, they attacked your school, your students, and you were hurt, all because of me.”

Iruka did not need this. He did not need to comfort the man who had shredded him emotionally. But he couldn’t, in good conscience, let Kakashi continue to believe that. “They attacked the school and they attacked me because they wanted to hurt a shinobi who killed someone in the discharge of his duties.”

Kakashi’s bleak gaze met his own.

“Whatever our … history, I know you love this village and you would do anything in your power to protect it and everyone in it. This wasn’t your doing. It wasn’t your fault.” The jounin shook his head but Iruka didn’t let him interrupt. “I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault,” he repeated, holding that unblinking gaze and putting all the conviction he had into those words.

Kakashi’s head bowed. 

Iruka tentatively reached out and placed his hand over the jounin’s, not pulling away even when the copy-nin laced their fingers together and gripped back too tightly. He’d never thought all those years ago that he’d ever be able to stand to be in the same room with Kakashi again, much less touch him. Here was progress, he thought a little sourly.

As though following his thoughts, the jounin said, “I never apologized for what I did to you three years ago.”

Iruka jerked back. “Not much point,” he said a little stiffly. “You had a mission.”

“Yes,” Kakashi acknowledged. “But even so, I owed you that. I held you in very high esteem. I still do.”

Great, Iruka thought, bitterly amused. Any second now Kakashi was going to ask him if they could still be friends and then he would have to punch the callous bastard.

“Terrific. Apology accepted. Is that what you needed to hear?” He stood, already heading for the door. “Was that all? Am I dismissed?” 

Kakashi caught his arm before he’d taken more than a step away from the table. “I want …” Kakashi trailed off and something like frustration flitted across his face. “You should come back to the mission desk,” he said finally.

Iruka didn’t let himself dwell on the swoop of disappointment. “Is that an order, Hokage-sama?”

The jounin immediately yanked his hand away. “How can you think-? No.”

“Then I’ll be going now.”

> He would not stay for me, and who can wonder?  
>  He would not stay for me to stand and gaze.  
>  I shook his hand, and tore my heart in sunder,  
>  And went with half my life about my ways.  
>  by A. E. Housman


	4. I should learn to look at an empty sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm being so productive here! Must be why I'm being so unproductive irl :{
> 
> oh well. 
> 
> Anywho, I thought we could use a little break from the heavier angst - even though I LOVE angst. I LIVE FOR IT. lol

The nondescript, white slip was folded in thirds and bore the Hokage’s seal. Iruka carefully set his books down on an unoccupied corner of the desk studying the firm, bold slash on the paper. He didn’t know if the writing was Kakashi’s. The realization pained him, though it shouldn’t have - the man he’d thought he’d known had been mostly a cover. 

_Umino_.

He let his hand hover over the short missive which sat about as innocently as a snake on his desk. 

“Umino-sensei!”

He jumped and whirled, clutching at his heart. “Lee-kun, please lower your voice.”

The jounin leaped enthusiastically into the room looking contrite. “I’m sorry, Sensei. I just have a lot of energy this morning.”

“I can see that, but please try to keep it down.”

The young man saluted eagerly. “I’ll begin my rounds now. Call for me if you need anything.”

“Rounds-?” he tried to ask. It was too late, Lee had disappeared. Iruka glanced back down and glared at the note, now certain that it was anything but innocent. “What the hell did you do?” he grumbled as he tore it open.

> _Notice to all faculty and staff:_
> 
> _While our intelligence committee has advised that the two shinobi who attacked our school acted alone, for the safety and peace of mind of all, I have assigned a high-level jounin to consult with school officials and together develop a concrete plan in the case of a similar incident. The jounin in question will be arriving Wednesday and he will oversee security at the Academy for the foreseeable future. He will report directly to Umino Iruka-san until such a time as another Head of Faculty is selected._
> 
> _Hatake Kakashi_

Iruka stared at the characters of Kakashi’s name for a long time. In three years, Iruka hadn’t dreamt of him once, but since the apartment incident… Iruka closed his eyes. He needed to focus on the now. Reliving the past - reliving a lie - was pointless.

He read the note again. Lee. Kakashi had assigned Rock Lee to guard the school. He appreciated that Kakashi wasn’t simply dismissing the possibility of another attack, it wouldn’t do to get complacent, but assigning a jounin to guard a school was the equivalent of using a forbidden technique to entertain at a birthday party. Ridiculously over-the-top and definitely dangerous, he thought a little wryly as he heard something crash in the hall.

“Iruka-sensei.” Hisa-san stood at the entrance to his classroom. “Have you read-” she glanced down at the open note on his desk. “Oh.”

He sighed and nodded to the seat across from him. 

“Do you think there could be another attack?” she asked worriedly, folding her long limbs down onto the chair.

Iruka gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile to the new chunin teacher. “I really doubt it, Hisa-san. The Hokage is simply trying to give us a sense of security. The children and their parents in particular.”

“Of course.” She smiled back weakly. “I’m sure you’re right.” She stood, then frowned at the booming voice that echoed outside. “Umm. Do you know that jounin?”

“I wasn’t his Academy teacher, but I know him to be a caring, considerate young man,” Iruka said firmly. “I’m sure he’ll do wonderfully here.” 

By lunchtime, all the students knew who Lee was. They laughed at his bodysuit, his leg warmers, his eyebrows, his bowl cut, and the impassioned, tearful speech he gave about hard work and effort. Iruka could have kissed him. It was the first time he had heard his students laugh all week. By the end of the day, all the kids loved him and wanted to be just like him. Iruka pictured twenty little hellions waltzing into his classroom the next day in leg warmers and bowl cuts and his lips twitched. 

“Bye!” Lee called as the last child marched out of the school grounds. “You’re going to do great! Study hard! Train hard! Love life!”

Iruka chuckled.

Maybe Kakashi did know a thing or two about what he was doing. Lee had brought a fresh breath of goodness and cheer into their day and bolstered all their spirits.

The young man turned and waved to Iruka, jogging over. “Sensei, anything I can help you with?”

“Thank you, Lee-kun, you’ve done more than enough. Why don’t you go have fun with your friends?”

The jounin braced his arms on the windowsill, leaning into the room. “Uh, well, I don’t really have all that many friends.”

Iruka stopped, appalled. Lee was such a kind young man that it was hard to believe. True, he was as .. unique as his mentor, Maito Gai, but both were exemplary men and superior shinobi. “Well, you can consider me your friend,” Iruka said decisively, then winced, “even if I am much older than you.”

Lee’s expression brightened and he vaulted into the room effortlessly, picking up Iruka’s overflowing rucksack with the easy strength of a Taijutsu Master. “Why don’t I walk you home, Sensei?”

“That’s very kind of you, Lee-kun. Though, if we’re going to be friends, you should call me Iruka outside of school.”

“I would be happy to, Iruka-san.”

 

The next day was more of the same. Lee was the first to arrive at the school in the morning where he enthusiastically greeted students, parents and faculty alike. The kids swarmed him and grilled him about his super secret missions, and his special moves and his hidden weapons. Iruka watched their eyes grow progressively wider and more starry as the jounin waxed poetic about the bonds between shinobi and the love of duty. 

Even some of the teachers had stopped to listen to Lee. 

He smiled at the sight of the young man surrounded by awed little faces. At this rate, they would all be late for class. Not that it mattered. His students needed someone like Lee right now, they needed to be reminded that for all the darkness, the world held plenty of light. And Lee was now their own personal beacon.

“Sensei! Sensei!” one boy demanded loudly, tugging on the waistband of the green suit. The jounin lifted him up into his arms and tossed him high in the air making the child squeal in delight. Even from that distance, he heard another teacher gasp, but Iruka was unconcerned. There were few hands a child would be safer in. He smiled, watching as Lee gently caught the boy and set him down, and thirty other small arms immediately went up demanding to be lifted. Lee glanced up, past his adoring throng and caught sight of Iruka. He winked and the next second he’d vanished from the crowd leaving behind a string of _oh my god! that was so cool! where is he? it’s his super ninja powers!_

It was so fast it was impossible to tell it apart from a transportation jutsu, he didn’t even feel the jounin move past him, only knew that when he blinked Lee stood in his classroom. “Good morning, Iruka-san.”

“Lee-kun. You’ve charmed them completely, I see,” he greeted smiling, moving to write the day’s activities on the board.

The young shinobi shrugged. “What they went through was terrible,” he said quietly, “I only want to show them that even when they suffer loss, they will still have a reason to keep living. There will always be more they’ll want to protect. Someone else to love.” 

Iruka’s hand paused on the board.

Lee winced. “Or maybe it’s me who needs that reminder. Being here is good for that.”

“Yes,” Iruka agreed.

Lee sat quietly, studying Iruka as the teacher finished his preparations. “How are you doing?” he asked suddenly. “After the attack-”

He didn’t finish the thought. One moment he was sitting, reclining idly against a student desk and the next he’d snapped to attention, body thrumming with readiness, eyes narrowed as he looked out the window. 

Iruka’s heart leaped into his throat. “The children.” He didn’t get the chance to use his transportation jutsu. His wrist was caught in an unbreakable grip. 

“Everything is okay, Sensei. Your kids are safe. I’m sorry for startling you.”

Iruka blew out a sharp breath. “You’re sure? Lee, if the kids are in danger-”

Lee pulled on Iruka’s wrist lightly so the chunin faced him. “You have my word, there is no danger. I’m being summoned, that’s all.”

Iruka swallowed and nodded, the sudden shot of adrenaline leaving him a little lightheaded.

Lee’s hand still circled his wrist, fingers over his pulse. 

Iruka pulled away. “I’m fine. You shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

For all that Iruka didn’t want to worry, the longer the morning wore on without word from Lee the more his focus was shot. What if there had been another attempt? Did it have to do with Kakashi again? What if they’d decided to strike directly at Kakashi this time? Every rational thought told him that it would be their funeral, Kakashi was the copy-nin, master of a thousand jutsu, an ex-ANBU, and Hokage of the Leaf Village. It didn’t stop him from wilting with relief when Lee sauntered back into his classroom just as lunchtime rolled around. 

He didn’t have the energy to scold his kids for jumping out of their seats and rushing at the jounin. 

Lee laughed and tossed a few of them up, filling the classroom with laughter and the vise around Iruka’s heart fell away completely. 

“All right. I have a lot of boring school stuff to discuss with your teacher, so go have lunch.”

Groaning, the kids shuffled out and Lee grinned at Iruka. 

He took in the chunin’s drawn features and sighed. “I knew you’d be worried. Sorry it took me this long to get back, but I’m not here empty-handed.” With a flourish, he produced two luridly-colored lunches. “I made these this morning.”

“Oh.” Iruka couldn’t stop staring at the perfectly formed, highly artistic bento featuring rice balls shaped into a decently close approximation of what he was fairly certain was meant to be his face. The scar across the nose really gave it away. “Lee-kun, you really didn’t have to do this,” he said weakly. 

“It’s no trouble for a friend.”

“Right. I mean, thank you.” Iruka took the bento box somewhat tentatively. 

“Shall we eat under the shade of the sakura tree outside?”

Iruka glanced up at the sigh he heard from his door in time to catch two girls giggle and duck out of sight. He frowned. “It’s a little cold to eat outside, Lee-kun. Why don’t we have lunch here? I’ll clear off my desk.”

“Allow me to help, Iruka-san.” 

Before Iruka could object, Lee had deftly intercepted him and, with his trademark speed, cleaned off the table, leaving his files in neat stacks on the nearby stool. 

“Shall we?”

“Lee-kun,” he began, once they were seated.

“I was summoned by the ANBU to the Hokage’s office,” the jounin said promptly, understanding why Iruka needed to know. “There were some details about Gai-sensei’s mission that the Hokage felt should be shared with me immediately.” Lee frowned down at his bento. “I’m grateful for that. If not for this assignment, I would have been with Gai-sensei on that mission.”

“Oh.” Iruka set his bento on the desk. “I’m sorry, Lee-kun.”

The jounin shook his head, as though to clear it. “No, don’t be sorry. I’m glad to be here. Gai-sensei is the most fierce and fearless shinobi I know, he’ll be fine. My mission is here.”

Iruka looked out the window at the kids running and leaping and yelling at the tops of their lungs. “And we’re very happy to have you.”

Lee grinned, his usual optimism reasserting itself. “Dig in, Sensei. We need to keep up our strength.”

 

Iruka grinned as he rounded the corner to the staff lockers and found Lee already there retrieving his pack. He caught a glimpse of several short green jumpsuits and raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t those a little small for you, Lee-kun?”

“Oh. Hah.” Lee scratched the nape of his neck and flushed. “Some of the kids wanted to know where they could get a suit like mine and, well, I still had some of my old ones lying around …” 

Iruka moved forward and patted the jounin on the back. “Very thoughtful of you. They’ll love them.”

Lee smiled a little shyly. “They’re great kids.”

“Oh sure, for their hero they’ll be angels,” Iruka mock-growled, laughing softly when Lee ducked his head in embarrassment. “You should think about taking a team like your sensei did,” he added thoughtfully. “You would be an exceptional teacher.”

“Really?” Lee looked up, puffing his chest out in pride. “I think I’d like that.”

Iruka grabbed his apartment keys and waved. “See you tomorrow, Lee-kun.”

“Sensei!”

He stopped.

“Um.” Lee wasn’t looking at Iruka. “Would you mind if I walked with you again? It’s what friends do, right?” he asked hastily. 

“Oh, of course.”

“Great! Just give me one second.”

He watched the jounin turn and carelessly pluck a note that had been lodged into the frame of his locker, then shut the door. He quickly fell into step with the chunin, scanning the message.

“So, Lee-kun, where-” Iruka stopped abruptly as the jounin stumbled and froze. “Lee-kun, are you all right?” 

The young man stared at the letter in disbelief. “I-I don’t-”

It was the first time Iruka had seen the jounin look surprised and plenty of kids liked to try and ambush him. He watched in amazement as Lee clutched the letter close and turned a vibrant shade of red that clashed horribly with his suit.

“Why, Lee-kun, is that a love note?” he teased.

Lee turned a terrified, wide-eyed gaze his way. “I think so.”

Iruka bit his lip to keep from grinning. “You heartbreaker, you. May I see it?”

The young jounin shoved the note at him. The writing was intricate and the card stock was sturdy and gold-embossed. Clearly, someone who thought a great deal of Lee. Someone he knew. The writing was very familiar.

“Well, I have good news, Lee-kun.”

“Good news?” Lee still looked like he’d taken several hits to the head.

“She is definitely age-appropriate.”

“What?” he squawked and looked back down at the note as though it would bite him. “Oh my god. I didn’t even think-”

Iruka laughed. “You really have to watch out for those pre-teen girls.”

Lee swallowed looking unsteady. “Okay. But she’s not a student, right?”

“Right.”

“Wait. She’s a teacher?” Lee turned a speculative gaze Iruka’s way. “You know who wrote this.”

“I do but, Lee-kun-”

“Say no more, Iruka-san. I would never ask you to betray the confidence of a friend.”

Iruka was pretty sure he was the one who was gaping this time. “Oh. Thank you.” Somehow, Lee still managed to surprise him with his maturity and compassion. He considered for a moment, then made up his mind. “Why don’t you let me cook you dinner?” 

“What? Really?!” Lee took Iruka’s hands in his and squeezed happily. “I would love that, Iruka-san.”

Iruka smiled genuinely. With Naruto gone, his apartment felt a lot bigger and a lot more lonely. Lee’s company would be a welcome distraction and maybe he’d be able to stop thinking about the other reason his apartment was empty. Lee was right, there could always be someone else to love. “How do you feel about udon?”

> Excerpt from: **The More Loving One**  
>  Were all stars to disappear or die,  
> I should learn to look at an empty sky  
> And feel its total dark sublime
> 
> W. H. Auden, 1907 - 1973


	5. i held a jewel in my fingers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR COMMENTS!! LOVE 'EM!!

“Come in, Lee-kun. Forgive the mess,” Iruka added a little self-consciously, removing his sandals. The kotatsu in the center of the room was buried under layers of books, and newspapers. A spare vest reclined on the low table and his morning coffee cup sat on top of some ungraded papers. He flushed a little, certain that Lee, as disciplined as he was, had an immaculate apartment. 

But Lee shook his head, “I understand. When I’m busy with missions, it’s difficult to have the energy to clean and organize every day.”

“But you do it anyway,” Iruka said wryly, hearing what the jounin wasn’t saying.

Lee flushed. “Oh … ah …”

Iruka laughed. “You don’t have to pretend for my sake, Lee-kun. Your work ethic is very admirable.”

“Thank you, Iruka-san.” He set down the bag containing the daikon and nasu they’d stopped to buy. “Shall I start on the vegetables?”

Iruka glanced at his disorderly living space and figured that’d probably work best. “That would be a great help. I’ll straighten up in the meantime.”

Iruka grinned hearing Lee challenge himself to chop all the vegetables in ten minutes. There was absolutely no doubt as to who the young man’s role model was. Iruka hoped for Lee’s sake that Gai-san returned soon. For all of Lee’s boisterous and seemingly endless supply of good spirit, Iruka could tell he was worried. He gathered an armload of books and set to arranging them on his shelf, absently making a mental note to dust. His aloe plant needed to be watered, laundry needed sorting, and his shikibuton needed a good turning. 

He jumped when Lee tapped him on the shoulder. 

“My apologies, Iruka-san. I merely wanted to inform you dinner is ready.”

“What?” Iruka looked out the window and realized in shock that the sun was setting. How he’d let himself get so distracted he had no idea. “I’m sorry, Lee-kun,” he said, bowing his head in dismay. “I was supposed to be cooking for you, not the other way around. I wanted to thank you for your thoughtful lunch.”

“Think nothing of it, Iruka-san, it was my pleasure.” The jounin winked, “And there’s always next time.”

“Oh. Sure,” Iruka said with somewhat forced cheerfulness. He liked Lee, a lot, but he wasn’t used to having people around him constantly anymore. He’d allowed too many of his friendships to fall by the wayside. “Yes,” he repeated more firmly. “We’ll definitely do this again.”

 

It took two more days for Iruka to get suspicious. 

“Good morning, Lee-kun,” he greeted, though much less enthusiastically than the morning before. 

The young man was standing to his full height, which was several inches taller than Iruka, and smiling brightly. 

“Good morning, Iruka,” he responded, stepping forward to take the chuunin’s pack. 

Iruka let him, having already lost that particular argument twice before, distracted by the realization that Lee hadn’t used an honorific with his name. The young shinobi smiled at him and Iruka hoped he was wrong about his misgivings. 

They walked several blocks in silence with only the rustle of leaves and Lee’s quiet, soothing humming as accompaniment. It was a beautiful morning despite the frosty temperature that made their breaths visible in the still hours. “Your apartment’s in the north section of town isn’t it, Lee-kun?” he prodded.

“It is.”

“Well, I do appreciate your company in the morning, but I don’t want you going so far out of your way just to walk with me.” Iruka didn’t want to be wary of Lee, but he couldn’t deny his own instincts. He’d done that once before. 

The bounce in Lee’s step hitched. “Oh, it’s no problem, Iruka,” he said, quickly recovering. “I love the exercise. It does my heart good to be out in the sunshine, and even more good to see you.”

Iruka jerked to a stop and instantly the jounin stopped as well. It was a bit intimidating how in-tune Lee was to everything he did. 

He studied the other shinobi and Lee met his gaze directly, no blushing or blustering. If any other man had said those words Iruka would have known they were flirting, but this was Lee … it just seemed impossible. He was only a few years older than Naruto for heaven’s sake! It was far more likely that Lee had simply said what was in his heart, unconcerned with connotations or nuance.

“Lee-kun,” he began nevertheless, “I’m grateful for your friendship.”

“But?” the jounin asked softly, smile dimming and twisting a bit. It wasn’t quite bitter, but there was an edge of sharpness to it that Iruka hadn’t seen before. 

“But,” he took a deep breath, “it’s a little sudden and … intense. It would be good if we contained it to the academy for a time.”

Lee’s eyes continued to track him, gaze far too penetrating. “As you say, sensei.”

“Thank you for understanding, Lee-kun,” he said bowing deeply.

If Iruka had thought that setting boundaries would suddenly turn Lee petulant and mean he was very quickly proven wrong. The jounin continued to treat him with the same warmth and respect as before, though now he spent less time in Iruka’s classroom and there were no more walks home or to school together, no more dinners and barely any shared lunches. When they did have lunch now there were generally two or three other people present. Iruka ate silently, regretting that he might have hurt a friend, but the unease that he’d experienced before had not disappeared. He couldn’t quite pin it down, but he had the unshakeable sensation that he was being followed. 

Finally, on the Friday of the first snowfall he called Lee into his classroom. Most of the other teachers had gone home for the evening and the students were long gone. “Lee-kun, I need to ask you something.”

Lee sat up, giving Iruka his full attention. 

“Just,” Iruka curled his hands over his knees, clutching tightly, “just please promise me you’ll be honest. Give me your word that you will tell me the truth.”

Lee opened his mouth to agree immediately, then closed it with a soft click, not uttering a sound. 

Iruka jerked back.

“Iruka-” Lee reached for him but Iruka shoved him away. 

“You’ve been following me.” It wasn’t a question. He was certain now. 

Given that Lee was an engaging, kindhearted young man without (seemingly) a treacherous bone in his body, Iruka felt he could be forgiven for not catching on immediately. It didn’t make the realization burn any less.

“Yes,” Lee finally said. “Forgive me, I did not realize it would pain you this way. I merely wanted to look after you in the least intrusive way possible. My mission-”

Iruka stiffened. “Pardon?”

Lee cocked his head. “My mission is to keep you safe.”

“Aren’t your orders to keep the school safe?”

“Mm. Iruka, we both know the reason behind that last attack had nothing to do with the school,” Lee stated quietly. 

Iruka flushed. 

“It’s good of the Hokage,” he murmured, “to protect his most precious person. I admire that.”

“The Hokage,” Iruka repeated from behind clenched teeth. Lee clearly thought it was a very romantic gesture. Iruka stood, movements sharp, feeling his anger cresting. “Well, I’m going home, so there’s really nothing left for you to do here.”

“I could walk with you,” he offered readily. 

Iruka finished stuffing his lesson plans none too carefully into his bag. “I’d prefer to be alone,” he said tightly.

The young shinobi’s shoulders slumped. 

“And don’t even think of following me,” he added severely.

Lee’s gaze jerked away guiltily. “Of course not, sensei,” he stuttered out unconvincingly. 

Good grief. He hoped Lee never got sent on covert missions. He was the worst liar he’d ever come across. 

 

Kakashi set his ink brush down and dismissed the ANBU in the room, ignoring their silent disapproval. He had a fair idea of what was coming and Iruka would appreciate not having an audience for it. His temper could get away from him at times. The jounin vividly remembered how … rewarding it had been to kiss Iruka breathless when the man got riled up.

Though, the near-killing intent that approached was just a tad more serious than riled up. 

Shikamaru approached the desk slowly. “Umino-sensei?” he asked, the angry chakra fast approaching feeling familiar. He sighed at Kakashi’s nod. “What did you do now?”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow in amusement at the long-suffering tone. “I’m completely innocent of any wrongdoing.”

Shikamaru just slouched further. “Innocent is not a word I associate with you,” he said, carelessly insolent. “And I still need you to sign some mission reports so don’t let him kill you,” the genius advised, yawning, and disappeared.

Really, no one respected him anymore.

He purposefully picked up the brush again, dipping it with precision into the inkwell. When the double doors slammed into opposite walls he was dutifully engaged in writing a rejection letter to Anko’s request for more snakes in the training grounds. It was a task generally assigned to low-ranking shinobi, but Anko had a habit of taking rejection … poorly. He was going to sign Shikamaru’s name to the note, he decided.

It was a full minute before he raised his head slowly to acknowledge the chuunin practically panting with indignation standing across his desk. “Ah, Umino-san, how may I help you?”

That may have been a step too far, Kakashi acknowledged ruefully when Iruka well and truly forgot himself and tore the letter from his hands, shredding it into confetti-sized pieces.

“You miserable excuse for a man,” Iruka snarled. 

“Hey, now,” Kakashi reproved mildly. He cocked his head to one side studying the chuunin more closely. Whatever this was about, Iruka was genuinely hurt. There was a bruised, tender feeling to his charka that made Kakashi sit up sharply. “What’s wrong?” he demanded, all masks forgotten.

“You!” he spat out. “Do you get some sort of sick pleasure in torturing me? Am I a game to you?”

Kakashi stood, all humor vanishing in an instant. “What happened?” he asked sharply.

Iruka clenched his hands into fists but the fury was waning, leaving his chakra stained with bitter resentment.

Kakashi moved around the desk fluidly, instantly, but he forced himself to stop and not reach for the other man. Instead, he shoved his hitae-ate up to activate the sharingan, focusing on the wildly-fluctuating chakra.

Iruka jerked back at the sudden appearance of the jounin at his side. 

“I give you my word,” the Hokage began quietly. It was pointless to try to maintain privacy when four ANBU were listening in, but he knew that Iruka would hate himself later for revealing this much to others. Even men bound to secrecy.

Iruka laughed bitterly. “You expect your word to mean anything to me?”

Kakashi stiffened and Iruka smirked knowing he’d landed a blow. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, Iruka.”

“I told you not to call me that!” the chuunin snapped.

“Why not?” He leaned close, lips brushing Iruka’s ear, not letting the chuunin shove him away. “I called you that when I was buried inside you making you scream my name.” 

The words were barely a whisper and Iruka froze, a low sound of objection rent from his throat. 

Kakashi took advantage of his momentary stupefaction to pull him close. “Tell me.”

Iruka butted his head against Kakashi’s chin. 

“Ow, sensei.”

He tried to jerk back again but Kakashi kept his arms firm. “Why would you do that to me again?”

Kakashi caught the chuunin’s hand as it crept toward his vest. “I don’t know what you mean, Iruka,” he said honestly.

The other man shook his head in disbelief.

“I don’t,” he reiterated sharply, shaking him a little for emphasis. “Tell me.”

“Lee,” Iruka said simply.

Kakashi pulled back in confusion. “What about him?” he asked in consternation.

“You ordered him to get close to me. You ordered him to befriend me, to be at my side all the time. What’s next?” Iruka demanded “Will he fuck me too? Make sure I’m nice and compliant? It certainly worked for you. Did you give him tips?”

Kakashi’s armed tightened to a painful degree. “Those were not my orders. Did he hurt you?” 

Iruka couldn’t decipher his tone, but a miasma of savage bloodlust thickened the atmosphere in the room, and Iruka stared in shock at the sharingan which looked like a three-pointed star now. He’d never seen anything like that before.

“Kakashi-”

“Did he?” the man asked again, gently.

The bright red of the sharingan contrasted sharply with those thick black, blade-like slivers that had appeared and Iruka felt his will draining away and he could not move.

“Sensei, close your eyes.”

But Iruka couldn’t. It was so beautiful and terrible. 

Kakashi placed a hand over Iruka’s eyes to shield him from the sharingan. “Answer me, Iruka. Did Lee harm you?”

“N-no. Of course not,” he responded leaning into Kakashi’s strength, feeling a little sick. He fought to center himself again and slowly began to reestablish control of his chakra. Iruka had never doubted Sharingan Kakashi’s power, even so, he’d never had such an intimate display of it before and that small taste nearly flattened him. His senses were still reeling.

“Bring me Rock Lee,” Kakashi bit out suddenly and Iruka turned his head to see two ANBU at the entryway.

The men inclined their heads and vanished. 

Bit by bit the pressure in the room eased.

“Are you all right?” Kakashi asked, still holding Iruka’s arms.

Iruka pulled away. He was _relieved_ that Kakashi released him, he told himself firmly. “You didn’t order Lee to do any of those things,” he said. It wasn’t a question anymore.

“I did not,” Kakashi affirmed. “My orders for Lee were to assess the security needs of the school, nothing more,” he stated calmly, lowering the hitae-ate to once again cover the sharingan. “He decided he wanted to submerge himself in the life of the Academy, which I allowed, but his reports have consisted only of security concerns.”

It pricked his pride that even after Kakashi’s betrayal, he still wanted to believe him. He wanted to trust him. But shinobi who didn’t learn from their mistakes didn’t live very long. “I suppose that could be true,” he said quietly, “but then you’re very good at subterfuge. It’s your specialty.”

Kakashi didn’t quite flinch. “Feel free to ask him directly,” he said instead of answering, glancing up. 

Rock Lee frowned when he saw the chuunin in the Hokage’s office. “Iruka, is something wrong?”

Kakashi stiffened. “Iruka?” he repeated, tone deceptively light.

Lee flushed. “Ah, we’re friends, Hokage-sama,” he said quickly.

It was certainly the truth but Lee looked so guilty as he said it that even Iruka thought he was lying.

Kakashi grinned, eye curving though Iruka got the feeling he wasn’t amused. From the way Lee tensed, he didn’t either. “State your mission at the school.”

“Assess security and determine how response time can be improved in the face of another attack,” Lee said promptly. 

Iruka frowned. “What about the part about monitoring me?”

Lee glanced from Iruka to Kakashi, confused. “Sensei, I don’t-” he shook his head. “There was no mention of monitoring you.”

Iruka took a discreet breath before he started yelling. “Lee-kun, you told me earlier that your mission was to protect me.”

“Oh. That.” Lee cleared his throat nervously. “I didn’t mean that my assigned mission was to protect you. That was the mission I gave myself.”

“How thorough of you,” Kakashi drawled.

Lee held his head up proudly, though a bright flush infused his cheeks. “After I learned that those missing-nin had targeted you, Sensei, I decided I would keep you safe.”

Iruka rubbed at his temples, frustrated. “Lee-kun, you should have just told me that.”

Lee smiled a little wryly. “I didn’t want to cause you concern. And, well, it gave me a reason to spend time with you.”

“Oh.” Iruka honestly had no idea what to say. Surely, Lee wasn’t … he didn’t …?

Kakashi crossed his arms. 

Lee stepped forward, eyeing the Hokage warily and bowed to the chuunin. “You have my deepest apologies if I hurt you with my thoughtlessness, Iruka.”

Iruka stared helplessly.

“How touching,” Kakashi said, brusque and impolite. He moved back to his desk. “Umino-san, if you’re satisfied with Rock Lee’s explanation, he may continue to fulfill his duties at the school.” He turned to face the jounin grimly and said, “He will do so only within the original mission parameters stated. No more … extracurricular duties.”

Lee’s expression went blank and he gave a sharp nod. 

“You’re dismissed.”

The shinobi bowed and began to withdraw, but he paused at Iruka’s side.

Kakashi’s visible eye narrowed dangerously. “Jounin, that was an order.”

Lee vanished immediately. 

Iruka couldn’t help open his mouth, that had always been his difficulty, he thought wryly, and said, “Was that really necessary?”

Kakashi studied Iruka. “You can always invite him to your apartment again. I’m sure it’ll do wonders for him.”

Iruka flushed darkly but straightened and stared at the Hokage grimly. “Is Lee not the only person following me?” he asked, coolly.

Kakashi perched against his desk and leaned forward. “You know as well as I do that there are no secrets in a shinobi village. Some shinobi believe that your safety is of concern to me-”

“Someone should really tell them the truth,” Iruka interrupted, acridly.

Kakashi grinned, a severe twist of his lips obvious even through the mask. “That’s your hurt talking, but you know you matter to me, Iruka,” he said softly. “I’ve tried to tell you that.”

Iruka turned away, hating that some idiotic part of him still longed to hear words that would never come from the jounin’s lips. “I guess that got lost in translation.”

He didn’t reach the door before Kakashi pulled him back against his chest, the vest digging into his back. “Don’t invite Lee home with you again,” he said urgently.

Iruka’s fury spiked and he turned sharply and swung, shocked when his fist connected with Kakashi’s mouth, knocking the mask askew. His heart slugged painfully against his ribs, breath caught in his throat. Oh god. He’d punched the Hokage. He wondered if he’d be tortured first or just summarily executed. 

They stood in that tableau for an eternal second, Kakashi’s head thrown back with the force of the blow. 

Then Kakashi straightened and bowed to Iruka. “My apologies, sensei. I deserved that.”

Iruka shook his head, feeling numb. “No. You’re the Hokage, I should never have …” He glanced away. “Why did you let me …?

Kakashi smiled slightly, fixing his mask. “As I said, I deserved that.” He retreated behind his desk. “If that is all, Umino-sensei, I do need to start again with that letter.”

Iruka flushed, feeling miserable. “I …” But what could he say? There was nothing. He turned and walked away.

From the shadows, Shikamaru materialized and leaned lazily against the wall. “That was entertaining. I always thought he was fairly bright, but he hasn’t managed to figure out that he has you on a string, huh?”

Kakashi didn’t look away from the doors through which Iruka had disappeared. He tossed the brush back on the desk and stood. “I’m going to need you to deliver a message to Anko for me.”

 

When Iruka got home, Lee was standing self-consciously at the landing, illuminated by the single working street lamp.

“Lee,” he groaned, “I am really not in the mood to deal with this tonight.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I understand. Only, it seemed to me that you were upset with the Hokage because of my mistake.” He sighed when Iruka stepped around him. “You shouldn’t be upset with him, sensei.”

Iruka glared at Lee. “For your information, he’s not the only one I’m upset with.”

Lee twitched, surprised. “You’re angry with me? But I only wanted to protect you.”

“I was a mission.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ve had enough of being a jounin’s goddamn job.”

The young shinobi looked aggrieved. “I promise you, Iruka-san, that I am your friend.”

“You lied to me. A lie by omission is still a lie,” he growled when the jounin opened his mouth.

Lee subsided looking ashamed. “You’re right, sensei. I didn’t want to distress you, but that is no excuse. It was overbearing of me to make that decision for you.”

Iruka refused to soften his heart. “You should go, Lee-kun.”

“Yes, sensei,” Lee said subdued. “Good night.”

> **I Held a Jewel**  
>  by Emily Dickinson
> 
> I held a jewel in my fingers  
>  And went to sleep  
>  The day was warm, and winds were prosy  
>  I said, "Twill keep" 
> 
> I woke - and chide my honest fingers,  
>  The Gem was gone  
>  And now, an Amethyst remembrance  
>  Is all I own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a lot with this chapter :( Is that obvious?
> 
> I'm already about halfway done with the next one and I feel like it's much more on track - from my perspective anyway ^_^


	6. i love you as certain dark things are to be loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my goodness, everyone!! I'm loving the comments!!! some of you are like 'okay, iruka, enough, he said he was sorry.' and others are like 'hell, no, kakashi needs to SUFFER'  
> lol. Also, you've caught on that I love kakashi as a weird, emotionally-stunted, dangerous, and even not-quite-sane shinobi. It makes him soooo interesting
> 
> also, yes, poor Lee, he did get caught up in things that he didn't understand. but don't worry, he'll be fine.
> 
> chapter title is from a sonnet by Pablo Neruda. One of my all-time favorites

Iruka swiftly raised his hand to his vest, knowing already as the presence coalesced behind him that it was too late. He turned and flung his weapon in a smooth economy of motion.

"Well, that wasn’t a very friendly greeting.”

Iruka paled when Shikamaru emerged from the shadows, the shuriken Iruka had thrown twirling from his finger. “Shikamaru-kun!”

A few civilians walking by jumped at the sudden appearance of the Nara heir but continued on their way at the man’s short nod.

“Feeling a little tense, Umino-sensei?” the shinobi asked, handing Iruka the projectile.

The chunin took it and crossed his arms. “I can’t imagine why,” he retorted ironically. “Shouldn’t you be on bodyguard duty?” he asked after the silence stretched too long.

Shikamaru eyed him as though weighing his answer. 

It was hard to believe this powerful genius was the same boy who would regularly fall asleep in his class and do only the bare minimum of work. Now he was one of the most elite shinobi in the village and one of the few ANBU whose identity was known. Iruka was grateful the shadow-user hadn’t donned one of the characteristic masks. Their cold, white, expressionlessness made his skin crawl. 

“As long as he’s in the office there are plenty of people to guard him,” the jounin finally answered. “Plenty of ears listening in too,” he added casually. “Those of us who serve at the command of the Hokage are all privy to very personal information.”

Iruka didn’t move, in fact, he stopped breathing.

Shikamaru yawned. “Did you know that every single ANBU who serves the Hokage is debriefed on any potential intelligence of interest?”

Iruka managed not to groan aloud. 

“It’s a standard security protocol. I imagine it’s comforting, however, to know that anything that transpires in that office is strictly confidential. Only those with the highest clearance have access to that information.”

“Very comforting,” he agreed almost noiselessly. Humiliation burned within him.

Shikamaru grinned, unsympathetic. “You have a hell of a right hook, sensei.”

“Iruka! Nara-kid!” Genma called out, making Iruka jump. At least he was spared dying of mortification.

Shikamaru waved at the man, unsurprised. “Well, have a good night, sensei.” He nodded at his fellow jounin and disappeared back into the shadows. 

“What was that about?” Genma asked, amused. “You have your own personal ANBU guard now?”

Iruka frowned at his friend, annoyed at his flippant attitude. 

Genma laughed. “Sorry, sorry, Iruka-kun,” he said, throwing an arm over the chunin’s shoulders, “but I did warn you about getting mixed up with Kakashi.”

“Gee, thanks for not rubbing it in,” Iruka huffed. “And what makes you think that had anything to do with him?”

The jounin rolled his eyes. “Because I’m not an idiot.” He squeezed Iruka’s shoulder and dropped his arm. “In all seriousness though, what did he want?”

Iruka closed his eyes tightly. “You were right,” he said instead of answering. “Getting involved with Kakashi was a mistake.” 

Genma studied him, and finally said, “Come on. I think you need a drink.”

The bar where they ended up was not one Iruka had ever visited. It was rather unremarkable from the exterior: a simple, unadorned two-story building with chipped paint surrounded by empty lots of dead grass on all sides. One lonely, decrepit light illuminated the solitary entrance. The only thing of note were the two shinobi standing guard on the rooftop. 

“Genma,” he muttered, hanging back. 

The jounin tugged him inside before he could voice his protest. The bar had a rather … seedy reputation. 

Inside, it was quieter and emptier than he had expected, the lights kept dim with plenty of shadows to disappear into. Iruka was careful not to look too closely.

“Hey, come on, my favorite booth is open,” Genma said cheerfully.

 _Of course, he has a favorite booth_ , Iruka thought amused and long-suffering. He followed his friend, skirting two jounin who were getting very handsy with each other at one table.

“I can see why you spend so much time here,” he commented drolly as they took a seat.

Genma grinned. “Hey, some of us like sex. We’re not all prudes pining for a lost love.”

The jounin was saved from Iruka’s biting reply by the shinobi who appeared silently at their table. “Drinks, sirs?”

“The usual for me. And my friend here will have your best sake.”

“Genma,” he protested, “I can’t-”

“Come on, Iruka, live a little. I promise it doesn’t hurt.”

The man retreated and Iruka glared at the jounin. “You haven’t lost that asshole touch,” he said pleasantly. 

Genma grinned, unrepentant, then looked past Iruka and his grin took on a much more shark-like quality. “Excuse me a second, Iruka-chan. Duty calls.”

Iruka shook his head but didn’t bother protesting. He knew Genma too well.

“Thank you,” he murmured as the older shinobi reappeared with his drink. 

The old man bowed and retreated. 

“Excuse me.”

He glanced up into a pair of bright green eyes. The man was blond with one jagged scar stretching from under his chin up to his ear. Iruka didn’t remember seeing him before. 

The young man grinned, friendly and warm. “I hope I don’t offend you, chunin-san,” he said respectfully. “I wanted to offer you a drink. You would do me an honor accepting it.”

“Oh.” Iruka automatically took the proffered glass. “That’s very kind. Thank you.”

He didn’t particularly want the drink but the shinobi continued to watch him, and it would be ungracious to refuse. Still, he studied the glass a little warily, and furtively and quickly went through several seals. There was nothing wrong with it that he could detect. 

The jounin continued to wait so he raised the glass to his lips.

A hand clamped down on his wrist before he could take a drink. “That is an unacceptable trick to play on my friend,” a dark voice said thunderingly. 

“Gai-san,” Iruka cried jubilantly and got to his feet. He stopped himself, embarrassed when he realized that he’d stood to hug the jounin. 

Gai looked a bit taken aback.

Oh. Right, Iruka thought ruefully, Gai wouldn’t know that he was happy to see him for Lee-kun’s sake. The young man must have been ecstatic to see his mentor. “It’s good to see you,” he said instead. “Would you care to join me?”

Gai smiled warmly. “I would love that, Iruka-san.” He plucked the drink from Iruka’s hand and turned and stared, disappointed, at the young shinobi who’d delivered it. “Iruka-san is a beloved member of the shinobi community, if anyone dares hurt him they will deal with me,” he said wrathfully and shoved the drink at the young man. The low hum of conversation around the room instantly died to nothing.

The shinobi paled and the hand that took the drink shook. He bowed and vanished.

“What was in it?” Iruka asked curiously. He’d checked for dangerous substances.

Gai sighed and took a seat and the conversation began to flow around them once more. “Nothing that would harm you, but this space has been claimed by jounin and I’m afraid certain younger members play unpleasant games with any non-jounin who wander in here.” He gazed at Iruka over his own drink. “Surely, you’re not here alone?”

“No.” Iruka grimaced and pointed vaguely at the shadowed corner in the far east of the room. “Genma thought I needed a drink.”

Gai reclined lazily on his seat. “Ah.” His lips quirked. “I imagine I would too after striking a certain high-ranking shinobi.” 

Iruka jerked. “I-I,” he bit his lip, shoulders slumping. “Yes. What _is_ the punishment for that?” he asked, only half-joking.

Gai laughed. “For striking the Hokage?” He lowered his voice so it carried no further than Iruka’s ears. “A highly unpleasant visit with our intelligence center followed by a short trip to a cell. If you’re lucky.”

Iruka swallowed.

“But for striking your foolish lover?” Gai winked. “I imagine you’ve punished yourself enough for that.”

Iruka looked away one hand fisted under the table. 

Gai leaned forward, the low lights throwing sinister shadows on his face. “You can’t truly be worried about repercussions? My worthy rival would never allow anyone to harm you.”

Iruka ran his finger over the outside of his cup, the warmth of the sake seeping into his fingertips. “He protects the people under his charge,” he said tonelessly.

Gai’s gaze was piercing. “Yes.”

Iruka nodded. 

He looked around, a bit more comfortable now that Gai was with him, but he didn’t want to be here, he knew what jounin came here to do. He watched a man and woman disappear up the stairs. Naturally, it was easiest with a fellow jounin, that way sticky little issues like questionable consent due to vast power disparities were less of a concern. He glanced at Gai from under his lashes, feeling his face heat at the thought that Gai must have visited this bar for the same reason, but he looked content to sit with Iruka. 

“I am loyal to my friends,” Gai said suddenly, apropos of nothing.

Iruka’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“I will not disclose their secrets.”

“That’s very admirable of you, Gai-san,” he said, a little lost in the one-sided conversation.

The jounin nodded sharply and downed the rest of his drink in one pull. “That being said, there is one thing of which I must remind you. You know well, Iruka-san, that we shinobi can have a difficult time understanding emotions. Our own most of all.”

Iruka studied the jounin. “I understand that, Gai-san.” He shook his head sadly. “I hate the thought that shinobi feel they must be emotionless to be effective. It’s why I try to give my students acceptance and love. I don’t want them-” He paused, not wanting to offend the other man, “I don’t want them to think they’re nothing but weapons,” he finished haltingly, feeling sanctimonious.

Gai smiled softly. “I have no doubt you succeed.” He ran a hand through his sleek black hair, looking over Iruka’s shoulder. “But some of us shinobi were not so lucky to have someone like you in our young lives. We became weapons too early, and human too late. It’s no wonder we are failures in matters of the heart.”

Iruka’s gaze softened and he patted Gai’s hand. “You are one of the kindest people I know, Gai-san. You haven’t failed at all.”

The jounin’s gaze jerked back to Iruka, surprised and he grinned. “I hope this won’t change your opinion of me,” he said quietly before pulling back. His voice boomed out, “My worthy rival, join us!”

Iruka stiffened so fast he thought he might have given himself whiplash. His spine seemed fused together and for the life of him, he couldn’t turn his head. For thirty-eight months he’d managed to steer clear of Kakashi with only the occasional glimpse at a distance, and now he couldn’t go a week without being confronted with him. He felt the warmth of the other man approaching, drawing him, attracting him like he always had. They’d fallen into one another’s orbits again, and Iruka, for one, couldn’t seem to break free. He hated to admit even to himself, that maybe it was because he didn’t want to, that when he tried to push Kakashi away, he didn’t want the other man to let him.

“No need to yell, Gai,” came the cool voice from much too close behind him. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Kakashi come into view, sans official regalia, wearing only his jounin uniform. “Umino-san,” he said quietly. “May I join you?”

Iruka’s tongue was leaden in his mouth.

“Well, Iruka, you’ve got yourself quite a party now!” Genma called cheerfully. He slid seamlessly into the seat next to Iruka and threw an arm around him. “Hey, but I get jealous with all these men around you, you know,” the jounin murmured against Iruka’s ear, loud enough for the others to hear.

Iruka shoved his elbow into Genma’s ribs making the man grunt.

“Yo, Gai,” he greeted, then turned a narrow gaze on Kakashi who had shoved his hands in his pockets, and was staring blankly across the room. “Hokage-sama.”

Kakashi gave a sharp nod. 

“Genma,” Gai said darkly. “Why would you leave Iruka-san alone in a place like this?”

“You worry too much,” Genma said easily. “I was keeping an eye on him. I would have intervened with that shinobi if you hadn’t.”

Iruka directed a glare at them both. “Gai-san, I may not be a jounin, but I am a shinobi. I can take care of myself.” Honestly, he didn’t know how so much of his time was spent with jounin. They made him feel like a useless idiot.

“Of course, sensei,” Gai said, instantly contrite. 

“Gai,” Kakashi said impassively, “we’ve intruded. Let’s talk somewhere else.”

“Nonsense,” the jounin said heartily and reached across the seat to remove Genma’s arm from around Iruka. “In fact, why don’t you keep Iruka-san company for a moment? Genma-kun and I have some private matters to discuss.”

“What? No, we don’t.”

Gai was deaf to Genma’s protests and dragged him away from the table and out the door.

Iruka closed his eyes tightly for a second and breathed out discreetly. “Would you like some sake?” he asked the jounin who still stood at his shoulder.

He could feel Kakashi’s steady regard. “Yes, thank you,” he said after a beat and took a seat across from him. The jounin was wearing his trademark mask, but the hitae-ate was pushed up on his forehead so that the scar that bisected his eye stood out in sharp relief. He’d kissed that scar. Late at night in a moment of closeness, he’d put his lips to it tenderly as Kakashi had threaded his fingers loosely through the inky fall of Iruka’s hair and said, _I’ll tell you about it someday_. But someday hadn’t come. 

The silence stretched between them, much too charged. “Hokage-sama,” Iruka said a little stilted, “I realize this isn’t the most appropriate place or time but I want to apologize for striking you.”

Kakashi glanced to the side, eyes narrowing. “Not so loud, if you please,” he said softly. “I don’t control all the ears here.”

Iruka swallowed. “What would happen if-?”

“Nothing,” Kakashi assured. “I would handle it. But best not to let it get to that.”

Iruka inclined his head. For something to do, he reached for the sake bottle. As was proper, he poured first for Kakashi and offered the older man the cup.

The jounin took it with both hands, fingers brushing Iruka’s, and the warmth stayed with him even after he pulled back and poured for himself. 

Iruka watched furtively as Kakashi pulled the mask down and put the cup to his lips, downing the sake. He quickly followed suit. 

The jounin sat back and sighed, relaxing against the seat. “This is nothing like Tamata’s,” he said grimacing. 

Iruka’s lips quirked. “It isn’t,” he agreed. That little place, near the Suan River, was a favorite restaurant of Kakashi’s and he’d invited Iruka one late night. They’d had a lovely, quiet, candlelit dinner and then walked home in the bright moonlight. As they walked, Kakashi had reached for his hand. It had felt momentous, as though they had cleared some hurdle and at arriving at his apartment they’d made love on his futon, so slowly and lovingly that Iruka had been near sobbing by the end. But it hadn’t been love at all for Kakashi. 

Iruka downed more sake and poured again. “You’re not wearing your jacket,” he said, not wanting to get into another pointless discussion.

Kakashi’s eyes followed the cup as Iruka put it to his lips. “I’m not here on official capacity.”

“Right.” They were both silent and Iruka wondered what they’d found to talk about all those years ago. Because they had talked. Iruka even remembered happy laughter. What had an academy teacher and an elite jounin talked about? It had started with Naruto, naturally, but they’d talked about more. A lot more. And sitting there, sadly, Iruka realized that Kakashi hadn’t really talked much. He’d asked questions. 

He smiled a little grimly at the naive chunin who’d been flattered that the famed copy-nin had shown such an interest in him. 

“Stop,” Kakashi murmured. 

Iruka looked at him, questioningly. 

“Whatever you’re thinking now, stop.”

Iruka tapped his fingers against the cool, uneven surface of the wooden table. He made no conscious decision to ask, but he heard himself say, “Did you ever-” He stopped and shook his head at himself. Apparently, he would never learn. “I think I’ve had too much to drink,” he said instead.

“I did, Iruka,” Kakashi said quietly.

Iruka’s gaze found the jounin’s. “You did what?”

“I had a job. I had a mission, and I always put my mission first.”

Iruka nodded, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. Was he just a glutton for punishment?

“But you changed everything,” Kakashi confessed softly, starkly like it was a terrible secret. "I couldn’t see it, I refused to see it until it was too late. But I did. I did care. I do care.”

“Yeah, those three years of silence really speak to your affection.”

Kakashi shook his head. “I’d hurt you. Do you think I didn’t know how much I’d hurt you? I knew you would never forgive me. But I still wanted-” His hands tightened on the cup. “I dreamed about you every night, and every night I would see your face again like-”

“Enough.” Iruka interrupted. “Don’t. There’s no point.”

Kakashi’s jaw clicked shut and Iruka rubbed at his temples. 

“I think it’s time for me to go.”

The jounin said nothing but his knuckles were white where they rested on the tabletop. “I’ve tried to let you go, Iruka,” he said in low tones. “These past three years, I’ve tried to stay away so that you could be happy, but I know now that you still have feelings for me.”

Iruka flinched. “Yes,” he said, tightly. “I still have feelings for you. I feel anger, and disappointment, and disgust-”

Kakashi recoiled. 

He exhaled a sharp breath. “I don’t want to hurt you, Kakashi. And I don’t want to be hurt, either. Please, let it go. Let me go.” He glanced around the room, hoping their conversation had not been overheard. “You came here tonight for a reason. Go find what you were looking for,” he said, standing.

Kakashi’s hand shot out, but he stopped before making contact with Iruka. 

Iruka still felt that touch as though Kakashi held him immobile. “I didn’t come here for that,” he said hoarsely. “I’m only here because Gai said he needed a drink and he wanted to talk.”

Iruka was hyper-conscious of the fact that Kakashi did not ask what he himself was doing there. He had no obligation to reveal that. If he wanted to fuck every last shinobi in the village that was his prerogative. But he looked into Kakashi’s eyes and couldn’t lie. “Genma dragged me here,” he said quietly. “He wanted to,” he grimaced and waved his hand at the surrounding room, “he wanted company and he thought I could use a drink.”

Kakashi studied him, gaze never wavering even as the server quietly appeared and asked if they would like more sake.

Iruka shook his head and the man retreated. “I didn’t-” Iruka forced himself to stop. He didn’t owe Kakashi an explanation. He didn’t owe the other man anything other than the apology for his inexcusable lack of control in his office. Still, the words got away from him, “I didn’t come here for that either.”

“No?” Kakashi asked quietly. 

Iruka felt his blood heat, the vivid reminder of all the dark, delicious things Kakashi had done to him, with him, flooding his body, making him so hard the room spun dizzyingly. He swallowed, hoping it was too dark for Kakashi to see his flushed cheeks.

“No, I-” he shrugged. “I guess I did need the drink, but,” he glanced at the empty sake bottle, “I’m done. I need to be going.”

“May I walk you home?” the jounin asked quietly.

And Iruka knew. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that if he allowed that, they were going to end up in bed together. There would be no going back.

“Yes,” he breathed and watched a wild, dangerous light flare to life in Kakashi’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K peeps, fair notice, it may be a bit before i update this again since i've got a few other fics to update and i'm also revising an old kakairu fic i wrote a few years ago under a similar pseudonym. I'll post it here soon! um, ish!
> 
> oh and here's most of the sonnet by pablo neruda:
>
>> Excerpt: **Sonnet XVII**  
>  Pablo Neruda
>> 
>> I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,  
> in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
>> 
>> I love you as the plant that never blooms  
> but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;  
> thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,  
> risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
>> 
>> I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.  
> I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;  
> so I love you because I know no other way
>> 
>> than this: where I do not exist, nor you,  
> so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,  
> so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.


	7. tomorrow I may be myself

The walk back home was serving to sober Iruka up much more quickly than he would have liked. 

He wondered what Kakashi was thinking as they made their silent way in the chill, moonless night under the feeble glow of interspersed street lamps. The jounin’s arms were loose at his sides, and as they walked Iruka could feel the warmth of the other man’s hand close to his own. Iruka made no move to take it. He didn’t know what this was, didn’t know what the other man wanted from it aside from the obvious, but he did know what it wasn’t. There was no beginning here, no future. Maybe this was simply necessary for them both. Neither of them had gotten closure before, after all, everything had come to a head too soon. Maybe this was that. A proper goodbye. 

The streets weren’t entirely empty, despite the late hour. They ran into Hiko-san - one of his student’s parents - who bowed to them as he made his unsteady way home, grinning slyly at Iruka and winking before staggering past them clutching his bottle. Iruka glanced again at the jounin, but Kakashi’s expression was remote and he ignored the little glances Iruka threw his way. 

Or maybe not, because after the last one, he said softly, “Don’t change your mind, Iruka.”

Iruka glanced away, swallowing. But, no, he wasn’t about to change his mind. 

He let them both into his apartment, uncaring for once what Kakashi would think of the clutter of books, and the odds-and-ends that intimated his life. The front door closed with only a whisper and Iruka walked on light feet over the tatami mats into his bedroom, knowing without needing to look that the jounin was right at his back. 

He didn’t bother with the light and turned to face Kakashi in the rather cramped room. The walk had taken the edge off his arousal, but he was still half-hard and he could see Kakashi’s gaze drop to his erection in the dull light streaming in from outside. He couldn’t quite force himself to make the first move. 

Kakashi took a step forward, then another until he was flush against Iruka, their vests brushing together. The jounin’s mask and hitae-ate were already gone, though Iruka had missed when that had happened. Kakashi leaned forward to graze his lips against Iruka’s. No other touch, just that. 

Iruka’s head jerked back reflexively. Somehow that hadn’t been part of his calculations. He hadn’t expected kisses. 

Kakashi cupped his jaw forcing him still, and met his eyes, wordlessly asking for permission. Iruka sucked in a slow breath and nodded infinitesimally. Tender lips found his again, meeting, sliding, clinging. Iruka gasped, opening his mouth against Kakashi’s, reveling in that warmth and closeness, groaning as Kakashi’s tongue dipped into his mouth, exploring. They hadn’t been this tentative, this careful the first time.

Their lips parted with a soft, wet sound making heat wash through Iruka, both their breaths coming more harshly. Kakashi’s hands went to his vest and slowly lowered the zipper, parting the cloth with careful deliberateness as though exposing something fragile, pushing it back and off until it fell with a soft thunk. Iruka’s hands mirrored Kakashi’s and went to the jounin’s vest, divesting him of it, still not saying a word. There was too much silence between them, but Iruka couldn’t break it. Words could ruin this. Or make it more. Both were dangerous propositions. 

He stepped close again, bringing their bodies into sharp contact, negotiating soft angles and hard planes, biting his lip to keep from moaning as his hardness pushed into Kakashi’s thigh and he felt the other man’s heat press back. He lifted his head, asking without voice and Kakashi kissed him again, but there was an edge of urgency now, of need that had the other man’s hands biting into Iruka’s hips and pulling him forward, grinding them together almost painfully.

He slipped his arms over Kakashi’s shoulders, deepening the kiss, pushing his own tongue aggressively at the other man and biting his lip none-too-gently. Kakashi jerked back with a dark chuckle, then pressed their foreheads together, fingers slipping under his uniform shirt, finding the warmth of skin. He tugged at the cloth, lifted, asking. Iruka stepped back and grabbed at the bottom of the shirt, yanking it over his head, then wasted no more time and quickly and efficiently removed his leg wrapping, weapons clinking together softly like wind chimes as he tossed them on top of his discarded vest. 

He straightened and pushed his pants off, pushed everything off, and carelessly kicked it to the side, leaving himself naked. He licked his lips, tasting the other man. How strange that no one else tasted quite like Kakashi. Iruka had grown addicted. 

The jounin undressed quickly, then turned to Iruka, a kunai held in one hand. His eyes held a question. He didn’t want to be completely unarmed in case of a threat. Iruka rolled his eyes. It hardly seemed necessary with the number of ANBU who were undoubtedly guarding him, though Kakashi hadn’t lived as long as he had by being careless. He huffed his agreement, watching as the jounin moved to the bed and placed the kunai within easy reach of the mattress. 

“Come here, Iruka,” he murmured, making the other man shiver.

God. It had been too long since he’d heard that particular, aroused husk in Kakashi’s voice. Too long since he’d seen that lithe, hard body bare for his eyes. Kakashi looked … thinner, more hardened. He was a finely-honed blade and Iruka’s fingers ached to touch. 

He found himself stepping forward, following that soft command without question. He’d never been one to follow blindly, but there was something about this jounin that made him throw his carefully crafted rules out the window. Even now when he knew just how painful that could be. 

He closed the distance and let Kakashi pull him close, sucking in a sharp breath as warm, bare flesh met, and hands stroked him. His own fingers found purchase on a few, well-known scars on the jounin’s back, and he breathed out softly, stupidly relieved when he found no new ones. 

Kakashi’s hands went to the tie in his hair and coaxed it off, fingers burrowing into the fall of his hair, massaging his scalp. Iruka pushed into those skilled hands and tried not to melt. 

They bore each other down onto the futon, Kakashi’s cock leaking slick brushed against Iruka’s thigh, making him grit his teeth to keep from crying out at the fire that shot through him. He moved onto his back, happy to let that body cover his, blanket his, groaning when the other man shifted down, then lower still. 

Kakashi kissed his way down his chest, licking playfully, teasingly at his belly, making Iruka jolt before moving on. He nipped at the chunin’s hip, then licked and kissed, soothing that tiny sting, and Iruka gasped, reaching down to bury his hands in the thick silver strands. He pulled, tried not to yank in his urgency. _Please. I need this_. Kakashi nodded almost imperceptibly and turned his head to kiss Iruka’s wrist, then parted his lips, warm breath tantalizing Iruka’s erection, making him go rigid with need. But he didn’t make him wait. The jounin parted his lips, letting Iruka’s cock nestle against the warm, wet, welcoming heat of his tongue and Iruka’s hips jerked. He cried out as Kakashi shifted and swallowed him down to the springy curls at the base of his cock, sucking at him, sucking at the heart of him, making shake and tremble and moan until he pulled at that silver hair, pushing Kakashi away so he wouldn’t come too soon. 

Kakashi raised himself onto his elbow, and looked up at Iruka gaze burning. “Whatever you want,” he said softly. “Anything.”

Iruka swallowed. “In me,” he murmured like a confession, and tugged at the jounin’s arm. “I want you inside me.” 

Kakashi reached into the small black cardboard box he kept near his futon and pulled out a tiny, amber glass jar with lube. Iruka hated how sure the other man was of finding everything as it been three years ago. As though time hadn’t passed for Iruka. As though he hadn’t changed at all and had simply been waiting for Kakashi to return. 

He hated even more that a tiny part of him wondered the same thing. 

Kakashi wasted no time in slicking himself up, maybe he didn’t want to give either one of them the opportunity to question the wisdom of doing this. He probed at Iruka’s entrance with slick, tender, knowledgeable fingers that made him bite his lip with the need to cry out. To beg for more. 

“God, just do it,” he keened after more of that gentle exploration, back arching against the cool padding of the bedding at the delicious burn.

Kakashi’s fingers continued their patient, thorough stretching. “Shh,” he murmured, lips brushing against Iruka’s temple. “I won’t hurt you.”

 _Yes, you will_ , he didn’t say.

Finally, the other deemed him ready and he lined up his cock, no awkward poking, and prodding, just one press home, pressure building at Iruka’s hole until he was taking slow, deep breaths at the overload of sensation, thighs trembling with the effort to keep still.

“Iruka,” Kakashi groaned. He sounded like he was in pain. He leaned forward and caught Iruka’s lips with his, though they were both too-far-gone for skillful kisses. He pushed forward again, hips pressing, spreading Iruka’s legs even more, making room for himself, cradled there. “Iruka.” The jounin’s breath caught, hitched. “I missed this. I missed you,” he whispered heatedly, fiercely against his lips. “God, how I missed you.”

Iruka turned his face away. He couldn’t. That was too much. He was already too vulnerable in this moment. He needed to hold on to his hurt or he’d let the other man get too close again. 

“Look at me, Iruka.” Kakashi held still, cock buried only halfway inside him, the heat of him, the sweetness of it making shocks spark at the point of their joining. “Look at me!” He grated harshly when Iruka closed his eyes.

Iruka’s eyes snapped open, anger warring with desire making both flare as he glared into those dark eyes above his own. “Kakashi,” he bit warningly, then puled in shock as Kakashi drove the rest of the way into him, balls slapping lightly against Iruka’s buttocks making him flush and groan at the stretch, the fullness. 

“Yes,” the jounin hissed. “Again.”

Iruka moaned and shifted, drawing a gasp from them both. He was too close now, this had been too long coming to hold back. “Kakashi, please,” he begged, past caring that he’d sworn never to do that again, though his pride was soothed at the dark emotion swirling in that piercing gaze. 

Still, the jounin held back until Iruka wrapped his legs around those slim hips and pulled him in harder, leaning up, and gasped, “Kakashi,” against parted lips, fingers gripping, pulling.

Something about that was enough because Kakashi groaned, pleased and pulled out, one long slow withdrawal that left Iruka shaking and feeling empty, then he pushed back in, an excruciatingly slow glide that rent barriers and claimed once again. 

_Oh_. Iruka fell back, limbs losing strength. No, this wasn’t what he’d wanted. He wasn’t giving the other man claim over him. He wasn’t surrendering that much. But Kakashi took him again and again and again, pushed into him, past those defenses he’d put up too late.

“That’s it,” he murmured tightly. “Let go, Iruka.”

He opened his mouth on a moan, panting, sweat pooling at his lower back and let himself fall headlong as Kakashi rose up on one arm and gripped his cock, stroking him with a too-knowing hand.

“Come for me, love,” the jounin coaxed and Iruka did, shock rippling through him making him clench around Kakashi, tearing a groan from the other man, making him jerk and come violently.

He wasn’t quite sure how long he floated in that gray cloud of lassitude - not more than a minute or two, surely - but he came back to himself when Kakashi groaned softly as he pulled out, shifting to one side and stretching out.

Iruka’s breath slowed, evened, the sweat of his body cooling and leaving him chilled in the wintry night. He didn’t look at the other man. They were mostly not touching now, the only point of contact was Kakashi’s hand wrapped lightly around his upper arm, thumb moving gently back and forth in an almost absent caress. He could feel the jounin’s gaze, unwavering, his scrutiny. 

Iruka closed his eyes, tension slowly seeping back into his lax body. He’d … heard wrong. Right?

“Do you want me to go, Iruka?” The words were quiet, said with no particular inflection though the fingers on his arm flexed and tightened. 

He’d had every intention of getting rid of Kakashi as soon as they’d finished fucking, but now he hesitated. Did he want Kakashi to go? No. And that’s what terrified him. 

Had anything changed, really? As a jounin, Kakashi hadn’t been interested in a serious relationship, Iruka imagined that as the Hokage he’d be even less inclined. 

Iruka sighed, let the creeping tension bleed out of his body and acknowledged to himself that he’d already forgiven the other man. Oh, Kakashi had still done an asshole thing, but Iruka could accept now that he’d gotten involved with him with eyes wide open. As much as it pained him to admit it, he’d been drawn to Kakashi precisely because they were so different. The jounin was about as far from safe, from proper, from steadfast as the stars from Konoha. Iruka’s life had become rather … predictable. Tame. Kakashi, in contrast, was electrifying. He was exhilarating. Granted, it was the same type of exhilaration Iruka had experienced at ten when he’d set off a Flame Rocket firework at the outskirts of town. It had been a breathtaking sight, so beautiful and new and crazy. Then sparks had begun to rain down all around him. The warmth had grown to a blazing inferno as the dry brush ignited surrounding him. He’d only survived because several chunin had come running and got the resulting conflagration under control. He wondered what it said about them that it was the only thing that came to mind to describe his time with Kakashi. 

“Iruka?” Kakashi prompted again, hand stilling on his arm. There was a flash of what looked like pain behind that neutral gaze before it was shuttered, and the jounin shifted making to sit up. 

Iruka turned to face him and threw an arm over his chest. “Stay.”

> Ah, My Beloved  
>  by Omar Khayyam
> 
> Ah, my beloved, fill the cup that clears  
>  Today of past regrets and future fears;  
>  Tomorrow? Why, tomorrow I may be,  
>  Myself, with yesterday's sev'n thousand years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, finally, another chapter. Once again, everyone THANK YOU for your comments!!! <3<3<3<3  
> hope you're still liking the story!
> 
> On that note ... ummm ... I'm going to be SUPER busy for the next few weeks. I'm finishing up some major projects, moving towns, then taking a vacation. All within the next month. So. Yeah. It might be a bit before I can update again. But I'll keep chipping away at it! There are only three chapters left of this fic. MAX. Possibly only two, it depends.


	8. Don't leave now that you're here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, has it really been six months since I last updated this?! Man, time flies when you're overburdened with life-changing decisions and stress lol
> 
> Also, you may notice I finally changed the title of the story. Whooo! It was never meant to be called 'i ask but to forget' so here is the official one
> 
> Anyway, as promised ... the next-to-last chapter by the end of the month (I was cutting it a little close there)

Iruka blinked open heavy eyelids to find a fully dressed Kakashi kneeling at his side. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” the jounin murmured, hands busy with his hitae-ate. He finished securing it and picked up his kunai, slipping them into their holder without a whisper of sound. “Go back to sleep. I’m needed at the office.”

“Mrr,” he gurgled intelligently. It looked dark still through the open window. No dawn was painting the sky yet. Iruka gave himself a mental shake, yawned and sat up. “Have a safe day,” he murmured, somewhat self-consciously now that he was mostly awake and remembering last night. 

Kakashi gave a short nod then stooped to drop a lingering kiss on sleep-softened lips before standing. “Take care.” He moved away, but paused at the doorway.

Iruka didn’t think he was imagining the silent struggle Kakashi was having before expelling a sharp breath. 

“I’ll be wrapped up at the office all day, but I’d like to speak with you. Can you come by?”

He blinked. “Sure.”

“I’ll see you there,” Kakashi said briskly, mind clearly already on the job. He stepped out of the bedroom without looking back. 

Iruka caught the hum of voices coming from the hall but couldn’t make out what was said. A moment later there was only stillness. He breathed out silently and rubbed at his eyes. It was early but he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Good thing he had plenty to keep him busy. Not the least of which was trying to figure out what the hell he’d gotten himself into with Kakashi. He flushed as his body reminded him of last night’s rather strenuous activities. 

Okay, maybe it was best not to think of that for now. He’d see Kakashi later in the day, no point getting ahead of himself until then.

 

“Well, well, well. The shamed and destitute prodigal son returns to beg for his old job.”

Iruka turned and grinned at the chuunin. “You mean the job I didn’t get paid for? The one at which I received only abuse from my coworkers? That job?” Iruka laughed. “Just visiting, thanks.”

“You up and abandoned us,” Kotetsu huffed. “You have no right to complain.” For all his grousing Kotetsu still clasped his shoulder in friendly welcome. 

Surely it hadn’t been that long since he’d seen Kotetsu? He tried to remember the last time he’d spent any time with the other man and came up empty. “I guess it has been a while,” he admitted, shamefaced. 

He snorted dismissively. “Well, it’s fine. We understood. After what happened with-”

“The Academy,” he interjected, smoothly. He really did not want to get into a discussion of why he’d quit volunteering.

Kotetsu didn’t bother to hide his eye roll, but he only pointed towards the mission office. “Just don’t be a stranger.” 

Iruka nodded and waved. He did miss working at the mission desk. It had been his way of doing more for his village, of assuaging the guilt of not going on missions. _Maybe it’s time to go back_.

 

Iruka was so preoccupied trying not to think about what Kakashi had to say to him that he nearly walked into Yamanaka Inoichi as the man was exiting the Hokage’s office. He leapt back from the intelligence officer none-too gracefully, but at least he managed to avoid an embarrassing collision. 

“My apologies, Yamanaka-jounin,” he said, standing at attention. He bowed shortly, then reached for the doorknob of the Hokage’s office.

But he jerked away when Yamanaka shoved in front of him rudely, effectively blocking his way.

Iruka stepped back, hiding his surprise and careful to keep his voice even. “Excuse me, Yamanaka-jounin, the Hokage requested my presence.”

“Is that so?” Yamanaka didn’t quite manage to conceal his scorn. “Regardless, you are not needed now, Chuunin. You are dismissed.”

Iruka didn’t budge. “I understand if he’s busy,” he said easily. “I’ll wait.”

Yamanaka’s eyes narrowed. 

Iruka didn’t allow his confusion show. There was something going on here that he didn’t understand. Since when did Yamanaka hate him? As far as Iruka knew he’d done absolutely nothing to the man, certainly not to the Yamanaka clan, and Ino had always been pleasant to him. It was strange to be despised for no reason he could determine.

“Maybe you can get away with acting insubordinate and too familiar with other jounin, but when in my presence, and when in the presence of this esteemed office you will-”

The door behind Yamanaka opened just as Iruka’s stunned, disbelieving dismay gave way to righteous indignation.

“Yamanaka.” Kurenai didn’t glance at Iruka. “We have word.”

The man immediately moved back into the office and proceeded to close the door behind him but Iruka caught the edge and pushed inside, propriety be damned. 

Kurenai flicked a glance his way, her expression unreadable, but she didn’t stop him.

The Hokage’s office was crammed with shinobi. They were standing, watching as Morino Ibiki and Aburame Shibi conferred under-voiced with an out-of-breath chuunin who stood at the eastern door.

Where was Kakashi? Iruka refused to let his imagination run wild, but being surrounded by a roomful of grim-faced jounin certainly wasn’t helping matters. He nearly jumped at the hand that pulled him back into the lone unoccupied corner of the room.

“We had news before dawn from a Sand detachment that Rock Lee had been attacked during his mission by shinobi from the Cloud Village. Lee’s whereabouts are still unknown,” Kurenai began unprompted, starkly. She shoved her hair back, the gesture stiff, unlike her usual graceful movements. “I’m sure you can appreciate the delicate nature of the situation. Peace between our villages is a clumsy, stuttering thing right now. It needs to be handled very skillfully so Tsunade-sama left to meet with a Kumogakure envoy and Kakashi went looking for Lee.”

_Of course he did_ , Iruka thought exasperated, helpless. Kakashi would have seen it as his duty to ascertain what had happened to any shinobi under his orders. “Has there been further word on Lee?” he asked, feeling guilty that he hadn’t thought to inquire after the young man before now. He knew Lee had taken a mission, of course, but missions could very well last for months at a time.

Kurenai shook her head. She was silent for a moment as another shinobi glanced back at them, then continued. “The Hokage’s reconnaissance team fell out of contact eight hours ago, then we lost contact with the Hokage himself four hours ago.” She didn’t look at Iruka. “Three hours ago we found out that Kumogakure had lost communication with their Raikage’s team as well.”

Iruka’s chest constricted painfully and his heart began to pound at his temples. “What was the news?” he asked hoarsely. “Earlier, you said there was news.” He wasn’t being careful enough, his voice too loud in the hushed office. He saw several heads turn his way, but was past caring. 

Kurenai only shook her head. Clearly, she hadn’t been made privy to that information just yet and she looked tense and unhappy.

Iruka was about to ask more questions when Yamanaka spotted him and his expression tightened. “Yuhi,” he called out across the room, drawing Morino’s and Aburame’s attention, “get him out of here. This is none of his concern.”

Kurenai did not move. 

Iruka saw Aburame cock his head in surprise then glance at Iruka, studying him. The laconic man asked Yamanaka a question, then turned to the teacher. “I see.” He moved closer, dark eyes hidden behind the goggles favored by the Aburame clan. The other jounin in the room parted easily before him. “Umino, correct? You were my son’s academy instructor.”

Iruka nodded, wary.

“You are a non-combatant chuunin.”

“I am a shinobi, Aburame-jounin-san. We are all combatants.”

Yamanaka snorted making Iruka stiffen but he managed to bite his tongue. “You are not part of our main military force. You are no combatant, which means you have no place here,” he finished quellingly.

Iruka was not quelled. He raised his head and planted himself firmly, refusing to move. There was a ripple that went through the jounin in the room and Iruka winced to think that he’d proved Yamanaka correct in their eyes, but he didn’t give a damn about conventionality at the moment. “I want to know as soon as there’s news of him.” _Whatever the news_ , he didn’t add. He wasn’t prepared to entertain a reality without Kakashi in it.

The intelligence officers looked at one another, their gazes holding a silent battle until Kurenai huffed, annoyed. “There is no reason to keep him in the dark. You would do as much for any other spouse.”

“Spouse?” Yamanaka raised a disdainful eyebrow. “I must have missed the wedding. I didn’t realize the Hokage was married.”

Iruka refused to look away or be dismissed. “Had I had known you and Kakashi were such good friends, I would have hand-delivered an invitation,” he returned with acerbic sweetness, purposefully flip. He wished he could take back the words the second they were out of his mouth and could have beat his head against the wall at his own wayward tongue. The last thing he wanted was to aggravate the people who had access to the information he needed. A few jounin glanced his way, but there was no condemnation there. He was surprised to see mostly grudging amusement in their eyes. 

Yamanaka was not amused. He flushed angrily at the casual intimacy with which Iruka referred to Konohagakure’s leader in front of his men but he managed to restrain himself to a murderous glare.

Morino bit off a sound that might have been amusement or irritation. “Enough,” he growled. “Umino, you will be informed of any news we have regarding the Hokage.” He turned away. “But you will receive that news in the conference room. Until then, if you choose to, you can wait in the hallway. Aburame, see him out.”

Iruka opened his mouth to argue, but he caught Kurenai’s gaze and she shook her head sharply, so he quieted reluctantly and followed the other man out the door.

“You are the Hokage’s most precious person?”

It took Iruka a second to register the nearly inaudible question. They were standing in the hallway, the door not-quite closed behind them. “Pardon?”

He assumed Aburame was staring at him, quite possibly in scorn, but it was impossible to see the man’s eyes behind those dark-tinted lenses. 

Aburame nodded as though confirming something to himself. He stepped close to Iruka. Too close and Iruka only barely managed to refrain from stepping back, stepping away. 

“You get one question.”

Iruka stilled, confused. He got one question? What the hell did that mean? He opened his mouth, then remembered the chuunin in the Hokage’s office and knew. There was only one thing that mattered. “Is he alive?” he forced out, his throat trying to close on the words.

Aburame grinned fiercely, approving. “Yes.” He turned and walked back into the Hokage’s office, closing the door swiftly and firmly behind him.

Iruka released a shaky breath and let his back hit the wall, sliding down until he was sitting, trying to contain the swell of emotion that threatened to break out of him. Kakashi was alive. He held onto that phrase like a lodestar to keep the darkness of his worst fears at bay, and scrubbed at his face letting his head fall back. He could wait. As long as he knew Kakashi was alive he would wait no matter how long.

 

“What’s this I hear about us being married?”

Iruka’s head snapped up from where he’d been slumped against the far wall of the hallway, head resting against his bent knees for the past six hours. He should have been doing something productive. He had lessons to plan, assignments to grade, end of term exams to formulate, grades to input, equipment request forms to fill out - the list went on and on. But he’d done none of those things, hadn’t dared move and wouldn’t let himself think because his thoughts began to spiral darkly down a rabbit hole he didn’t want to follow because it all led to crushing fear. Fear for the man who appeared in front of him now.

Kakashi stood at the door of the Hokage’s office in his jounin uniform minus the vest or gloves, a smile curving under the mask. The room behind him looked almost empty now, the far door standing open, though Iruka caught a glimpse of Morino, Aburame, Yamanaka, and Kurenai huddled around a table, talking to another shinobi he couldn’t see.

“Iruka.” Kakashi’s voice rang out sharply, his eyes narrow, concerned. He stepped away from the door, closing it behind him. “Are you all right?” 

Iruka nearly laughed. Was _he_ all right? He wasn’t the one who’d dropped out of communication for practically an entire day and nearly driven his men into a frenzy. He clenched his hands in his lap to keep them from shaking and nodded jerkily. “Are you done?” he asked tightly. 

Kakashi continued to eye him closely. “For now.”

Iruka didn’t move, letting his gaze catalogue everything he saw. There was a small, shallow cut just above Kakashi’s wrist crusted with dried blood, starkly visible against pale skin because he’d pushed his uniform sleeves up. It was hard to tell with the dark material, but there appeared to be a stain on the shirt to the right side of his abdomen as well. Iruka hoped to hell it wasn’t blood. 

He raised his eyes and their gazes met, locked. That awareness that always resounded between them sang more acutely. Iruka swallowed dryly, unable to look away. Kakashi was here. He was safe. He was also leaning against the far wall, not coming any closer. 

Iruka stood on shaky legs. “O-okay,” he said unsteadily and took a step towards Kakashi-

Only to be nearly bowled over by the flash of green that lit out of the office. “Lee-kun!” Their quick reflexes saved them both. Oh god, he’d forgotten about Lee-kun. Hell. He looked the young man over guiltily. He hadn’t seen the jounin for days and now the young man’s left arm was in a crude sling and there were bandages covering one eye. 

Lee’s head snapped up and he grinned, though it was somewhat subdued. “Umino-san. How nice to see you.” He winced, hand going to his ribs. “My apologies for nearly knocking you down.” 

Iruka waved that away and frowned, concerned. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing, Umino-san.”

“Of course it’s not nothing!” he refuted tightly. “You’re seriously injured.”

“Iruka,” Kakashi shook his head when the chuunin looked at him. “Lee is not at liberty to discuss the mission. Don’t ask him to reveal classified information.”

Iruka took a deep breath and slowly exhaled until he wasn’t ready to curse at the top of his lungs. “Fine. Lee, do you need to see a medi-nin?”

Lee blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Please don’t concern yourself, Sensei. I’m fine.”

“I can see that,” Iruka returned ironically, glancing at the crutch Lee was all-but draped over. He didn’t want to leave Kakashi, but in good conscience he couldn’t let Lee simply go in his state. “You can’t be on your own like this,” he said aloud.

“It’s fine, Sensei. I won’t be- That is- There is a -” Lee cleared his throat, looking trapped. “Umm ...”

“I think what Rock Lee is trying to say is that he has a friend impatiently waiting for him outside. He won’t be alone.”

The young jounin shot the Hokage a grateful smile, then looked at Iruka and shrugged sheepishly. “I wouldn’t presume to call him my friend,” he refuted, though his eyes shone with hope.

Kakashi shifted and Iruka caught a slight wince. “He certainly had not trouble doing it,” the Hokage revealed wryly. “He was rather adamant about seeing his friend once you were released from the debrief. You might even say he was implacable. Uncompromising. Inflexible.”

Lee started to sweat slightly. “My apologies, Hokage-sama, he’s simply direct-”

“Mmhm. Like a blunt object to the head,” Kakashi agreed, making Lee cringe, though the Hokage’s lips quirked in amusement. “Let’s not create another international incident, shall we? We already got three countries involved. You should get going.”

“Hokage-sama, I would never-!” Lee began anxiously.

Iruka shook his head in exasperation and relief. “Ignore him, Lee-kun. He’s joking.”

“Never-” Lee stuttered to a stop and took in the Hokage’s amusement. “Ah. Sorry.”

“Go. Rest,” the Hokage ordered.

Lee bowed. “Thank you, Hokage-sama. Umino-san.”

Iruka frowned, belatedly realizing what had been nagging at him. “Lee-kun,” he objected, stepping forward, “please don’t be so formal. I meant to apologize long before now, but I didn’t get the opportunity.” He bowed and said regretfully, “I was unfair to you. I’m sorry and I hope you will continue to call me your friend.” 

“Sensei!” Lee sounded scandalized. “Please raise your head!” He limped closer and gripped Iruka’s arm tightly before blinking and anxiously glancing at the Hokage and slowly, deliberately removing his hand though Kakashi only grinned ruefully. “I simply didn’t want to presume. I have never stopped being your friend, Iruka-san,” he said firmly. 

Iruka straightened and smiled. “I’m grateful and humbled to hear that, Lee-kun.”

The young jounin beamed at them blindingly and waved, disappearing in an instant. 

“He’s going to aggravate those wounds,” Iruka couldn’t help noting into the suddenly strained silence that followed his departure.

Kakashi shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s impossible to stop him. He’s as headstrong as Naruto,” he added in something like pride. 

Iruka smiled faintly. “So,” he turned to face the jounin, all traces of humor gone, “how badly are you hurt?”

“Mm, not badly.” Kakashi rolled his shoulders as though testing the truth of that. “Not at all, really, just bruised. I think I'm getting old.”

“Kakashi-” he began tightly. 

“You haven’t kissed me,” Kakashi interrupted, and Iruka’s brain short-circuited forgetting what he’d been about to say.

“What?”

“Well, I figure you’re here because you were your usual dogmatic self and refused to let anyone send you home. That means you were worried.” He let his head fall back against the wall, breaking their gaze. “But you haven’t kissed me in a fit of passion. In fact, you haven’t so much as touched-”

Iruka crossed the space between them in an instant. “Come here,” he murmured and knew his gaze was giving too much away, but he’d never been able to care casually. 

Kakashi’s arms closed around him instantly, there in the hallway where anyone could see. Granted, the hallway was empty. 

Iruka tried not to read too much into the gesture anyway and pulled Kakashi’s head down, grazing his lips against the other man’s over the mask, keeping it light. 

Kakashi hummed in disapproval and reached up to yank the mask down impatiently, reclaiming Iruka’s lips with a single-minded, barely leashed ferocity that left Iruka gasping, head spinning.

He jerked back at the click of the door in time to see it being swiftly closed again. _Shit_. He winced and looked at the jounin - _the Hokage_ , he thought with a groan - but Kakashi didn’t bother to so much as glance behind him.

“I have a few hours before we start in again on this disaster,” Kakashi murmured, warm, calloused fingers tracing the delicate curve of Iruka’s bottom lip. “Care to keep me company?”

Iruka swallowed, knees weak with the relief of having Kakashi alive, whole, safe in his arms. Reaction was hitting him belatedly, another emotion battering at him, too painful, too barbed and splintered for joy and he hid his face against the other man’s shoulder and nodded.

“I’m glad you’re home,” he whispered.

 

 

If possible, Kakashi’s place seemed even more barren than the last time Iruka had been there. “Doing some redecorating?” he asked, dryly.

“Ibiki is still looking into the attack on the Academy. We’re not leaving anything to chance.”

“So he needed your books?” He looked more closely at the empty shelves. “And your pictures?”

Kakashi shrugged. He walked inside and raised his shirt over his head, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Iruka swallowed. There was no come-on to Kakashi’s movements only smooth efficiency, but his muscles flexed and tightened in ways that made Iruka’s blood heat so that he nearly missed the other man’s reply. “They’ll be returned when the investigation is complete.” 

Iruka had stopped listening. There were contusions all along Kakashi’s right side that disappeared down into his uniform pants. Ugly, purpling marks roughly the size of a foot. “You are hurt,” he said tightly. 

Kakashi looked down at himself and sighed. “Like I said, bruised.”

Iruka couldn’t take his eyes from the injured flesh. As strong as the jounin was, he wasn’t invulnerable. Iruka closed his eyes, then jumped when a hand touched his elbow.

“You’re on edge,” Kakashi said quietly.

He winced and stepped away. “Maybe.”

“Because of me.” The jounin wasted no words. 

“You told me yesterday,” had it only been yesterday? Iruka glanced at the clock on the mantel that read one thirty a.m., “that you needed to speak with me.” 

Kakashi held his gaze. “Ah. Is that why you’re here? Is that why you waited?” The jounin stepped back. “I didn’t realize you’d taken my words to be an order. Do want to leave?” he asked, gaze going carefully blank.

Iruka looked heavenward in exasperation. “You can be pretty dense, you know.” Honestly, how Kakashi could be such an incredibly insightful shinobi and still not know the first thing about emotions, he would never understand. 

Kakashi grunted. “I’m aware, but I’m walking a fine line, Iruka.” He sighed and sat at the small kitchen table, looking exhausted suddenly, staring unseeing at his hands. “You’re someone I want a romantic relationship with, but you’re also a shinobi under my command. I should’ve left you alone, I know,” he admitted in the tone of a confession. Kakashi glanced up, but his gaze wasn’t repentant. “I should walk away.” He stood up but he walked closer instead, so close they were a breath away from touching. “But I won’t. I can’t. And I can’t muster up any regret for that either. Tell me you want to stay.” The words ended whispered against his lips as Kakashi pulled him close, a tender brush that made Iruka’s insides liquid. 

“I want to stay.”

He nearly missed the infinitesimal loosening of the jounin’s shoulders. “Good,” he murmured, reaching up to pluck his mask off. He leaned forward and kissed Iruka sweetly, chastely. 

At least, that was how it started. Kakashi pulled back, thumb stroking Iruka’s cheek and dipped his head again, exploring this time, tongue firmly, unhesitatingly moving into Iruka’s mouth, tasting, taking as though there was no doubt Iruka was his. 

Iruka groaned, pulling the other man even closer. He’d been half-hard since they’d walked into Kakashi’s apartment and now he was aching, needy like he’d never been with anyone else, pushing his hips into the jounin’s, reveling in his gasp and the feel of that equally hard erection against his. 

“You feel so good,” Kakashi whispered heatedly, breaking the kiss, “You’ve always felt good.” He leaned in again and kissed Iruka’s neck, lips trailing burning kisses that fanned his desire and, unthinking, he dug his fingers into Kakashi’s waist. 

It was the nearly imperceptible tightening of the jounin’s muscles that snapped Iruka back to reality and he tried to pull back only to be brought up short by Kakashi. He kissed the corner of Iruka’s mouth, hands going to the chuunin’s vest, quickly unzipping it and letting it fall to the floor. Warm, expert fingers yanked at his shirt, going to the waistband of his pants. 

Gasping, Iruka placed his hands over Kakashi’s, stilling their movement. “Wait.”

“Sure,” Kakashi agreed readily, not stopping. “Or we could not wait,” he proposed making Iruka huff a laugh, but he didn’t allow Kakahi’s hands to continue their journey and the jounin licked mutinously at Iruka’s neck, making him suck in a sharp breath.

“Wait,” he repeated, making his voice more firm with effort. “You’re hurt, and … when was the last time you ate?”

“Yes,” Kakashi answered nonsensically, making Iruka laugh again. 

He grinned at Kakashi and reached up to remove the hitae-ate, tender fingers running through the jounin’s untamed hair, massaging at his scalp. Kakashi let his head drop forward and sighed blissfully. 

Iruka didn’t let himself think about everything that lay unresolved between them and kissed the jounin’s temple then stepped back quickly. “All right, enough. You’ll feel better after a bath.”

“I certainly would if you joined me,” Kakashi purred and Iruka flushed crimson, mind spinning dizzyingly at the thought of having Kakashi in the steaming bath, their naked bodies slapping together erratically, water sloshing over the rim of the tub. He swallowed dryly, the sound audible and Kakashi lips quirked, grin ferocious.

Iruka glared and cleared his throat. “You’re hurt, go soak for a good thirty minutes and I’ll fix something to eat. God, I’m starving,” he blurted, realizing it suddenly. “Hurry it up, I want to eat too.”

Kakashi laughed, and leaned close to give him one last kiss. “Yes, Dear.”

 

“Iruka.”

Iruka glanced up from where he’d been nodding off at the fully laden kitchen table and had to swallow, glad that he was already sitting down because a freshly-showered Kakashi wearing nothing but a navy blue yukata was enough to make him lightheaded at the best of times.

He cleared his throat. “Come eat, I raided your kitchen.”

“I appreciate the meal, Iruka, but you should be resting.”

“I will,” he assured, standing. “After you and I eat. And then you’ll get some rest with me.”

Kakashi grinned tiredly, approaching the table. “As enticing as that sounds, there’s no rest in the cards for me, I’m afraid. I need to get back to the office. But I’ll take you up on dinner.” He scanned the feast laid out appreciatively. “Thank you, Iruka, this looks wonderful.”

Iruka waved that away, realizing with some discomfort that he’d gone to the extra effort of making Kakashi’s favorite dishes and set about divvying up the food, serving up rice and topping it with thin slices of beef and vegetables from the hotpot. 

He reached for the sake but Kakashi intercepted him. “Allow me.” He poured for them both and took a seat. “Now we just need some candlelight and we’d be in business.” The jounin added, voice deliberately light, “You could come back after work and we could have the full experience later tonight.”

Iruka gave it some thought, pleased that Kakashi wanted him to stay, then sighed and shook his head. “That’s not a good idea.”

Kakashi paused with the chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He set them down, expression carefully blank. “I see.”

Iruka kicked at the jounin’s shin lightly. “No, you don’t,” he returned exasperated. “Naruto gets back tomorrow.”

Something like relief crossed Kakashi’s face, followed by dismay. “Ah. Right.”

“Yeah. He may not react so well to …”

Kakashi chuckled, though he didn’t sound very amused. “You’re being too kind, sensei. The blond typhoon will try to gut me where I stand, of course.”

Iruka shook his head. “He doesn’t hold a grudge,” he argued, though he didn’t sound very convinced to his own ears.

Kakashi downed his drink and picked up the sake bottle again, movements slow and precise, gaze turned inward remembering. “I’ve seen him twice since-” he cleared his throat. “The last time I saw him was after I was made Hokage.”

Iruka sipped at his cup and tried not cringe, imagining what was coming.

“I knew he was still upset. I know how much he loves you, so I thought I’d let him take a swing at me to work out his anger.”

“Oh, Kakashi,” Iruka sighed. He scrubbed at his face. “Naruto hitting you doesn’t mean he hates you.”

“He didn’t,” Kakashi said softly. “He greeted me very properly, very coldly, and walked away.” Kakashi looked at his palms, hands curling into fists. “I have few precious things in my life, Iruka. Your lo- your trust, Naruto’s trust, I lost both.” He glanced at Iruka again, gaze piercing. “I never thought I’d be able to recover either. But I want to - very much.”

Iruka looked away, heart slugging away hard in his chest, avoiding the jounin’s eyes. “I’m not sure what you mean by that, Kakashi. What do you want?” 

“I want what we had three years ago,” he said promptly, with no equivocation. “But I want it to be real this time. No more lies.”

He hadn’t expected- 

But no, that wasn’t true. He knew Kakashi thought he wanted a new beginning. And what Iruka wanted …

“Kakashi, I’ve forgiven you,” he said carefully. “I care about you. A great deal. But it’s one thing to forgive and another thing entirely to be willing to risk …” Iruka closed his eyes and let himself remember the anguish of having his heart shredded. He’d loved Kakashi and that love had nearly destroyed him. To risk that again? Just the thought made his breath stop in his throat. If he took this plunge a second time and lost there would be no recovering from that. Although, was there a choice to be made here, really? Hadn’t he already decided despite his best attempts at staying away? Because here he was throwing himself into the other man’s life again.

Kakashi silently watched that battle play out on Iruka’s face. “You don’t owe me this, but will you hear me out?” 

Iruka’s expression shuttered, but he gave a single, sharp nod. He needed to hear what the jounin had to say. It had been a long time coming. 

“I don’t know if this will change anything for you.”

It surprised Iruka to hear the stilted, halting tone in the jounin’s voice.

“I don’t expect you to want to understand after the way I hurt you, but I need to try and explain why I took that mission, why I allowed things to go too far.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair and didn’t look at Iruka. “I’d been curious about you for some time. I’d heard about what happened with the traitor, Mizuki, and I heard about what you did. That, coupled with how important you are to Naruto, and how well the Third spoke of you despite your … proclivity to speak your mind,” Kakashi smiled at Iruka’s wry huff at the careful wording, “piqued my interest. You were a puzzle,” he admitted. “So when that mission dropped into my lap I jumped at it. I wanted to know more. It felt … safe to pretend with you.” The jounin smiled grimly. “It felt safe to let go with you, and to be someone else. To feel things I would never have allowed myself otherwise. Because it wasn’t real. It was a mission. At least,” he breathed out something that wasn’t a laugh, something that was pain and doubt and uncertainty, “at least, that’s what I told myself. I convinced myself of it.” His lips twisted. “Sensei, it wasn’t you I lied to, it was myself.”

Iruka realized he’d stopped breathing when his lungs began to burn. He took a hiccuping breath and dropped his head into his hands, everything, the emotions of the last three years bubbling to the surface along with a hefty dose of fear that he could be wrong again. 

“You don’t believe me.” The words rang out after several minutes, hollow. 

Iruka swallowed and shook his head, though he didn’t know what he was disagreeing with, if he was disagreeing at all. 

Kakashi watched him, eyes unreadable, waiting. Waiting for the ax to fall, waiting for Iruka to utter the words that would end this. End them once and for all. There was an air of bleak resignation to him now.

“I don’t-” he took a breath. “I don’t know what to believe,” he admitted, chest tight. 

Kakashi closed his eyes.

“But.”

The jounin looked at him again.

“But the truth is,” his voice began to shake and his vision blurred.

Kakashi’s hand shot out and he grasped Iruka’s hand tightly.

“The truth is that I love you, Kakashi,” he managed finally and the jounin bowed his head, fingers tightening. “I love you,” he repeated. “I never stopped and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.”

“Iruka,” Kakashi whispered hoarsely, grieved, joyful, and to Iruka’s shock Kakashi, deadly, aloof, genius Sharingan Kakashi, dropped to his knees beside Iruka’s chair and begged. “Let me stay in your life. Let me prove to you that it’s real. That I mean it. I love you, Iruka. Let me, please.”

The sob building at his throat finally released. Three years and he hadn’t once allowed himself to grieve. He’d loved Kakashi, had hoped to build a future with him and he’d lost that and found betrayal and lies instead. He cried for the first time since that night, couldn’t stop the unsteady breaths escaping him and he tried to turn away because he was a shinobi and shinobi were not supposed to weep, but Kakashi pulled and Iruka had no choice but to fall into his arms because it would never be a choice for him. He would always end up in Kakashi’s arms. 

“Yes,” he breathed finally, tightly and let go, let it all go, kissing Kakashi through his tears. “Yes.”

> **[Excerpt] Before You Came**  
>  By: Faiz Ahmed Faiz 
> 
> Before you came, things were as they should be: the sky was the dead-end of sight, the road was just a road, wine merely wine. 
> 
> Now everything is like my heart, a color at the edge of blood: the grey of your absence, the color of poison, of thorns, the gold when we meet, the season ablaze. 
> 
> Don’t leave now that you’re here— Stay. So the world may become like itself again


	9. your loving fingers seek for mine

Iruka yawned widely, nearly cracking his jaw and set the pen down to rub tiredly at his eyes. He was starting to see double from the strain but at least he was finished.

He closed the year-end grade book and stood, stretching his knotted muscles. God, he’d kill for a hot bath and a hot plate of food but he only had the energy for one. It was no contest. He grabbed his towel and bath items and stepped out the door. 

The bath was abandoned that far into the evening so he had his pick of lockers to toss his clothes into after quickly undressing. He took his toiletries and towel into the shower and scrubbed himself down, toes curling at the pleasure of the hot water sluicing over his skin. It was such a luxury after a long day that he took more time than was seemly before finally making his way to the male communal bath area and lowering himself into the tub with a heartfelt sigh.

He let his head rest on the pseudo-rock surface lining the tub and tried to clear his mind. Tried to push all thought away.

Two minutes later his eyes popped open and he gave it up for a lost cause.

Three days. The last time he had seen and/or spoken to Kakashi had been three days ago when they’d had dinner together after that ordeal with Cloud, but Kakashi had not been able to spare another moment for them since then. Well, there was no point in pretending. He missed him. But Kakashi’s job came first, he knew that and wouldn’t interfere. 

He let his head fall back and sighed deeply, wishing he’d thought to bring sake. 

“What? What’s the matter with you?” came the familiar voice from behind him.

Iruka jumped making the water startle around him. He turned, heart brimming, already grinning so widely he was liable to split his lips. “Naruto!”

The blond was wearing a black uniform tee with his trademark orange pants and he was grinning, shoulder propped against the doorway. _God, when did he get so tall?_

“Hey, sensei,” he greeted. “I’d hug you but-” Naruto scratched at his nose, eyes turned away.

 _Huh?_ Iruka looked down and flushed darkly realizing he’d leaped up in his excitement and was standing naked in the bath. He dove back down to his neck in the water as the brat laughed at him.

“You can stop being amused,” he groused, but couldn’t stop smiling. “Go wait for me in my apartment,” he called, moving to the far end of the bath where the door to the lockers was situated. “I’ll be right there.”

“Okay, but make it fast. I’m starving!” 

Iruka nearly rolled his eyes. Some things would never change. 

He dressed in his yukata and quickly threw his things into a bag, waving as another shinobi was entering.

“Naruto,” he called, opening his front door.

“Here,” the voice came from the kitchen. There was a delicious smell permeating his apartment. 

“Did you cook?” he asked in disbelief, rounding the corner. He saw right away that Naruto had not cooked. Takeout containers had buried his counters. “Did you buy?” he asked in even more disbelief.

He got a dish towel thrown at him in retaliation. “I can buy once in a while,” Naruto grumbled. “Now go sit. I’ll bring everything out.”

“What did you do?” Iruka asked, forcing a crack in his voice. “You can tell me, you know. I care about you unconditionally. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together,” he continued, mercilessly ribbing the blond.

Naruto grabbed up the boxes of food and stalked into the living room, dropping them down on the low table. “Just for that, you can forget about getting any manjuu.”

“You bought manjuu too? Now I seriously am thinking something’s wrong,” he teased, taking a seat at the chabudai.

He watched, feeling something tighten in his chest as Naruto darted back and forth between the living room and the kitchen area, grabbing chopsticks and plates and the teakettle and cups and sake, talking animatedly the whole time about training with Jiraiya-sama.

Finally, the blond was satisfied with everything and took a seat.

And Iruka reached forward and smacked him on the side of the head.

“Ow!” Naruto yowled too loudly, clutching at his ear.

“I know that didn’t hurt, you brat. Now, tell me why you’re two days late.”

“Mmm.” Naruto straightened and picked up his chopsticks. He slurped up his noodles appreciatively, taking his time to chew and swallow before answering. “Old Man Jiraiya lost our food money gambling so he said we had to stay until we made more,” he explained, lifting the bowl and tilting it to his lips. 

Iruka blinked. “Gambling? What kind of role model is he?”

“A strong one,” Naruto boasted and reached for another container.

Iruka huffed disapprovingly and poured himself sake, then smacked Naruto on the head again as the brat had the gall to pick it up and down it in one go. “Respect your elders, you little punk.”

Naruto laughed.

“And this better not be something else that sannin taught you,” he warned. “You’re not old enough to drink.”

“Nah. I learned this one on my own,” the blond answered cheekily and winked.

“God, you’re going to turn out just like Ka-” Iruka coughed and choked on the name and reached for his tea, promptly downing the cup, avoiding too-perceptive blue eyes.

Naruto raised an eyebrow and picked up a dumpling. “Like who?”

Iruka cleared his throat. “Like … Konoha’s other … rogues,” he finished halting, wincing at the horrible cover. Some ninja he was. Naruto frowned, confused, and Iruka quickly changed the subject. “So, when did you get in?”

“Few hours ago.” The blond’s expression cleared and he filled both teacups. “We had to check in with the old lady first,” he explained.

Iruka sighed, exasperated, but didn’t berate the blond for referring to Tsunade-sama so rudely. “I see,” he said instead. “And you didn’t run into anyone else?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could.

Naruto paused with his cup halfway to his lips. “I ran into a bunch of people. Who are you asking about?”

“Sakura-chan,” he blurted hastily when bright eyes narrowed in suspicion. And okay, he could maybe understand Kakashi’s nervousness about telling Naruto now.

“Oh.” Naruto relaxed. “Nah. I’ll surprise her tomorrow.”

“Right,” he murmured, picking at his food with his chopsticks. “That’s great.”

Naruto frowned, watchful. “What’s going on? You’re acting weird.”

Iruka forced a laugh. “And how would you know when I’m acting weird? Maybe you just forgot what I’m like.”

“I haven’t,” the kid pronounced with unshakeable certainty. “I haven’t forgotten anything,” he added slowly, quietly and the smile froze on Iruka’s face. 

“Oh?” he pressed, throat tight.

Naruto stared at him, gaze much too intent before snorting. “Eat your food,” he mumbled, tucking back in himself.

Iruka’s pride ruffled in indignation at being ordered around by a child and he considered protesting. For about half a second. Then he envisioned having to explain to Naruto his renewed relationship with Kakashi and quickly simmered down and picked up his chopsticks instead.

 

“Naruto?” he croaked out, stifling a yawn as he made his way to the living area in the prelude to morning. In that dim, strange, chill time at the cusp of daybreak. The place was utterly silent which was strange because Naruto tended to snore.

The apartment was empty of any blonds. In fact, the futon had been neatly folded and arranged back in its rightful place. Iruka followed his nose to the kitchen where he found a covered breakfast plate laid out for him with a note attached that simply read _I’ll see you tomorrow night. Hanging out with the gang. Love you_. And for the signature, he’d written _your favorite little brother_. 

Iruka sat down heavily on the kitchen chair and stared at the note. Stared at that signature until his vision blurred and he had to swallow hard against the lump in his throat that was trying to suffocate him. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there in his robe with his hair in disarray, breaths unsteady until the faint knock at the door had him leaping to his feet, heart drumming a prematurely ecstatic beat. _It’s not Kakashi,_ he scolded himself firmly. After that fiasco with Cloud that had also implicated Sunagakure, the Hokages were going to be inundated with work for the next few weeks if not longer. There was no doubt that a great deal of diplomacy would be needed in the coming days and months to strengthen the lagging treaty between the villages. All of which meant that Kakashi had no time to make friendly visits.

He turned the knob, running a hasty hand over his hair to settle it and paused with the door open half a foot, breath catching.

Kakashi. 

Iruka shoved his joy to the backburner as his startled gaze took in the ANBU uniform Kakashi was wearing. He’d never seen the other man in that getup before. And he was no longer ANBU, so why was he …? He wanted to ask, wanted to know what was happening, wanted to make sure that Kakashi was all right, but …..

Kakashi looked exhausted. There were tender, blue half-moon circles under his eyes and even his hair was drooping dispiritedly. “Sensei,” he said softly, lips barely moving under the mask and Iruka stepped back, motioning for Kakashi to enter.

His questions could wait. All but one. “Would you like breakfast first or do you want to go straight to bed? To rest,” he clarified hastily, flushing when Kakashi paused in removing his shoes at the genkan and raised an eyebrow.

But Kakashi shook his head. He lined up his sandals next to Iruka’s and he had a moment of gratitude that Naruto’d had an early morning because this was definitely not the right time to deal with that potential fallout.

“What do you need?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen anyway, aware of a strange fissure, a disconnect, between him and Kakashi that he was unsure how to breach. It didn’t help that he hadn’t seen Kakashi in several days and now that the man appeared he was in that alien gear. He grabbed the teapot to give his restless hands something to do. 

“Iruka.” Kakashi stepped close in behind him as he was at the sink filling the pot. He laid his hands over Iruka’s, stilling the motion and shutting off the water. “Look at me.”

Iruka let himself be turned. He wanted to see the other man, wanted to drink him in, to hold him close before some other obligation, or commitment, or engagement pulled him away again.

“I’m sorry I haven’t had time to-”

Iruka shook his head firmly, cutting him off. “Don’t. Don’t apologize to me for fulfilling your duty. I am a shinobi, Kakashi. I understand.”

“I know,” Kakashi agreed, grinning faintly. “But I also understand that waiting isn’t easy. You might eventually get tired of waiting,” he added lightly, though there was no levity in his eyes. 

“I might,” Iruka allowed, poking at Kakashi when the man tensed, “if you gave up on us. If you stopped showing up.” 

Kakashi stared intently. 

“But as long as you show up, I will too. Okay?” He didn’t give time for Kakashi’s response and frowned, glancing at the front door. “I’m not going to have ANBU bursting through my door, right?”

“Bursting--?” Kakashi huffed a laugh. “I haven’t ducked my responsibilities, no.”

Iruka winced and pulled back. “Sorry, that wasn’t what I meant. I’m just surprised - pleasantly surprised - that you were able to get away this soon.”

Kakashi scratched at his nose over the mask, sheepish. “I wanted to make time for you as soon as possible so I …” Kakashi glanced away and shrugged, his expression unreadable. Except it wasn’t, not anymore. Iruka could read it. And he knew Kakashi was feeling out of his element, stumbling in the dark just like Iruka, trying to get it right. 

_So I worked myself stupid for seventy-two hours straight to get one day off,_ Iruka filled in and something reckless and bright came bubbling to the surface and he pulled Kakashi’s mask down, kissing him lightly. Just a soft graze of lips that still ignited him from within. “Idiot, don’t work the man I love so hard,” he said in an undertone, wrapping his arms around the jounin.

“Yes, sensei,” Kakashi whispered nuzzling against his temple. “Only, I recognize it’s important to make time for us.”

Iruka sighed. “It is,” he agreed, “but I’m not a civilian Kakashi, so don’t treat me like one.”

Kakashi inclined his head. “Forgive my ignorance, sensei, but know that I am trying.”

Iruka’s throat closed and he only managed a tight nod in response, opening to Kakashi’s expert kiss. Truth be told, he’d always been a little intimidated at just how experienced Kakashi seemed to be. He dipped his tongue delicately into Iruka’s mouth, exploring, but there was nothing tentative to that gentle plundering that left him breathless and ablaze.

“Iruka,” Kakashi murmured, lips clinging.

And what did it say about how far gone he was that he knew from the intonation of that dear voice exactly what Kakashi wanted? He stepped back and Kakashi wasted no time in unsnapping his vest and tearing it off, letting it fall to the floor gracelessly before reaching for Iruka again and pulling him close, so close without the armor that the flimsy yukata he was wearing made for no barrier at all. 

“God, I’ve been craving this,” the jounin muttered, clever fingers finding the overlap of Iruka’s yukata and slipping inside to caress the sensitive skin of his inner thighs and he gasped as that knowledgeable hand rose to find his hard cock and stroke him with electrifying familiarity. “I’ve needed to touch you. Iruka,” he coaxed darkly, “I want to fuck you on your knees.”

And, god, okay, yes. His legs weakened at the memory of Kakashi inside him, that satiny, steel length gently opening him one second and brutally, deliciously plugging at him the next. “How long can you stay?” he whispered against those tender lips. It was a wonder that they could taste so sweet when they could also say such hard things.

“Long enough.” Kakashi buried one hand in Iruka’s hair and claimed his lips once again.

 

“Are you criticizing my technique?” Kakashi asked, outraged and Iruka laughed so hard he nearly doubled over as tears pooled at the corners of his eyes. “That’s it,” the jounin muttered, and he pinned both of Iruka’s wrists over his head against the bedding, his body covering the other man’s. “I think you’re due for a spanking.”

Iruka choked on his laughter as he tried to rein in his amusement. “Wait, wait,” he gasped, then broke into another peal of laughter as he remembered the scandalized look on the other man’s face, but he stopped laughing when Kakashi shifted, moving so quickly that Iruka could have sworn he’d used a displacement technique. His eyes got comically wide as he found himself splayed naked on the futon over Kakashi’s lap. “Uh. You’re joking, right?” He tried to shift but Kakashi wasn’t letting up. “Kakashi?” He turned his head and found the other man’s gaze had darkened with renewed arousal and Iruka could feel his own cock twitch in response. “Seriously, you’re joking, right?”

“Maybe I can think of another way to punish you,” Kakashi conceded, mostly to himself, voice the dark molasses of wanton promises. 

Iruka swallowed hard and didn’t move.

“Tell me, are you sore?” Kakashi asked. He parted Iruka’s cheeks with one hand, fingers trailing delicately over his eager asshole. “No?” 

Iruka groaned at the feel and vehemently shook his head, though he was. 

The dribble of lube directly onto that tender muscle made him gasp and jerk at the sudden coolness. Kakashi’s finger was back, still only rubbing lightly over that deceptively tiny opening, making that grasping muscle twitch readily. “Eager,” was Kakashi’s terse estimation. 

Iruka raised up onto his elbows and smirked challengingly. “What can I say? It’s almost like getting fucked fulfills a basic, primal need. Not to mention it gets me off.”

He stopped smiling and cried out at the hand that came down sharply to crack against the skin of one buttock, sending jolts of shocked pleasure through him. “That smart mouth of yours, Iruka,” Kakashi murmured, full of dark promise.

“What about it?” he gasped. “You gonna put it to better use? Oh, wait, you can’t because you already blew your load.” 

Kakashi took a calming breath and shook his head like Iruka was just too hopeless. “Imp,” he accused, lips curling in amusement. “I will need to punish you.”

“Are you going to force me into a classroom of thirty diabolic, hormonal children wielding sharp objects? Because, you know, that would really be hellish.”

Kakashi laughed and kissed his temple.

> **At Last [excerpt]**  
>  Elizabeth Akers Allen
> 
> At last, when all the summer shine 
> 
> That warmed life’s early hours is past, 
> 
> Your loving fingers seek for mine 
> 
> And hold them close—at last—at last! 
> 
> Not oft the robin comes to build 
> 
> Its nest upon the leafless bough 
> 
> By autumn robbed, by winter chilled,— 
> 
> But you, dear heart, you love me now. 
>
>> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I ended up extending the chapter to 10 instead of 9. But ten will be the last one, I promise!! (probably) lol


	10. Looking to the heaven that bends above you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment of truth! A year in the making.

_The morning started out with such promise_ , Iruka bemoaned internally. 

He brushed his hair back and quickly put it up into its usual ponytail before picking up and tying his hitae-ate, wishing he didn’t have a meeting today of all days. They only had a few more hours together before Kakashi had to leave to resume the council hearing with the kages. This was not how Iruka had wanted to spend them. “I should have waited to tell you,” he muttered a little morosely. Hindsight being what it was. 

“No,” Kakashi answered immediately, pulling Iruka close. He distracted him with a kiss, then two, then three until Iruka huffed a laugh and pushed him away. “I’m glad you told me he’s here. We need to get everything out in the open.”

Right. That would be for the best. They could do this. Naruto did not get to determine their lives for them. If the teen had concerns they would sit together and discuss them with cool, collected heads. 

Though telling that to Kakashi yesterday had only gotten him a blank stare before the man had continued his pacing. _Stretching my legs_ , Kakashi had retorted as he’d diverted to avoid stepping on Urushi. 

Now, six hours later, the jounin made another - short - loop around the room, pace clipped and measured and Iruka thought, _Stretching his legs my ass_. 

He would have rolled his eyes at the absurdity of it all, but the truth was that he was nervous too. It was ridiculous really. Naruto was nearly an adult, and if both he and Kakashi talked to him calmly and rationally everything would be fine.

“He’s gonna murder you,” Pakkun stated baldly, unhelpfully. 

Kakashi rolled his shoulders. “Yes, thank you, Pakkun,” he returned bitingly.

Bull made chuffing noises, sounds that were just shy of growls, and paced on Iruka’s mats. 

“It’ll be fine,” Iruka tried to soothe. Shiba looked ready to rend someone piece by piece and Bisuke was practically vibrating. “Kakashi, we’ll talk to him. Everything will be okay.” He patted the jounin on the shoulder and set about making tea. He needed to ease the tension before Kakashi’s ninken started gnawing on his furniture. Or possibly his neighbors. 

If only Naruto hadn’t decided to disappear for a full day, Kakashi wouldn’t have had time to twist himself into a nervous wreck. ‘Wreck’ being exactly what the jounin’s ninken were doing to Iruka’s apartment. He winced when Bull whuffed in agitation and started chomping on Iruka’s slippers. Again. 

The three brisk blows that landed on the aged wood of the front door couldn’t have come soon enough. Uhei growled, the gruff on his neck standing on end but quieted when Iruka shushed him. 

Kakashi raised an eyebrow at Iruka who shrugged sheepishly even as he made his way to the entrance. “I figured you’d just drive yourself crazy without a distraction.”

“And you thought the best distraction was Gai?” He crossed his arms. “You naked in bed would have gotten my enthusiastic vote.”

Iruka grinned as he reached for the doorknob. “Yes, well, I have a meeting at the Academy that I can’t put off.” Though he’d seriously considered it for a few, hormone-addled seconds. But, in the most technical of senses, Kakashi was his boss. And aside from being just plain awkward, that also put him under a great deal of scrutiny. He could definitely not skimp on work. Even the suggestion of impropriety might get the village wondering if he was taking advantage, might call into question Kakashi’s ability as a leader. Iruka would sooner take a dive off a cliff than compromise the other man. 

“Iruka-san!” Gai looked far too enthusiastic for seven in the morning. “I am here as requested. How may I be of service?”

Kakashi sighed. 

“I hope it’s not a bother, Gai-san. I just thought-” he glanced at Kakashi. “We’re going to talk to Naruto later tonight.”

“I see.” Gai glanced at Kakashi’s closed expression and took in Iruka’s flushed cheeks. He clapped the chuunin on the shoulder companionably. “No need to fret. I will keep my eternal rival entertained for you until you get back.”

“Thank you, Gai-san.” Iruka bowed and extricated himself from Gai’s grip. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said to Kakashi. “Try not to worry. And please behave.”

“I’m not actually your pet,” Kakashi groused but the door had already closed behind Iruka. Without so much as a goodbye kiss. He sighed again more despondently.

“Not so nice to be on the other side, is it?” Pakkun asked with a smirk, then suddenly found his own paws very interesting when Kakashi glanced at him. 

“So,” Gai said after a beat, dropping into a kitchen chair. “You and Iruka.”

Kakashi leaned down to pet Bisuke and did not respond. 

“Do you really think-”

“Iruka’s a big boy, he doesn’t need you protecting him,” Kakashi cut in mildly. He straightened casually, hands lax at his sides, but there was a fine strain running through him. 

Gai leaned back, holding the other jounin’s gaze steadily. “... that Naruto-kun will disapprove?” he continued blithely as though Kakashi hadn’t spoken. Gai hummed when Kakashi continued to ignore him. “You’re two of the people he loves most in the world.”

Kakashi looked out the west window at the hint of the blushing sunrise. _The people he loves most_. Kakashi felt the words out in his head, testing for truth. Once, that might have been accurate, but he wasn’t sure it was the case any longer. And wasn’t that a kick to the gut? Naruto loved Iruka, there was no question about that, but as far as Kakashi …. 

He didn’t react when Uhei trotted over and nudged his leg, shamelessly asking for attention.

“Even if he does reject you,” Gai continued more quietly as Kakashi’s fingers absently scratched at Uhei’s scruff, “don’t give up what you have. Some of us don’t get that chance.” 

Kakashi relaxed, some tension ebbing. “Yeah.” He looked to the pictures Iruka kept on his bookcase. Pictures of his parents, of Naruto, of his classes, of friends. He picked up his favorite. It was of the three of them: Iruka, Naruto, and him. Kakashi didn’t remember the moment it was taken, probably because Naruto was clinging to his arm, drawing his attention while Iruka smiled longsufferingly at them. He’d been surprised when he’d discovered that picture among the others. Surprised that Iruka hadn’t at least cut his image out.

Gai cleared his throat and Kakashi set the picture down carefully. “Well?”

The Copy-Nin raised a questioning eyebrow. 

“Your beloved suggested a spar would do you wonders.”

“Did he?” 

Guruko raised his head, eyes gleaming in a slightly unsettling manner. Well, that wasn’t surprising. The dogs picked up on his emotions and he’d been restless and uneasy for the last forty-eight hours. 

Gai studied him closely. “I’m inclined to agree.”

“A spar, huh?” Kakashi remembered that by evening he would be facing Naruto. A likely enraged, older, Sanin-trained, host of the Nine Tails Naruto. “Yeah, that might be a good idea.” This blossoming thing between him and Iruka was still new. Still fragile. And if there was one thing guaranteed to make Iruka reconsider, it would be Naruto’s objection. 

He crossed the room to grab his vest. “I’m in the mood for a little destruction. Don’t hold back.”

 

The academy meeting was scheduled to end at three thirty. Iruka had told him, of course, but Shikamaru had also very casually mentioned it when he and Gai were taking a break from sparring. 

Kakashi arrived at the academy gates at three twenty-nine and waited with his hands shoved in his pockets, waving pleasantly at the surprised shinobi instructors who filed past on their way out. Well, everyone would know eventually, no point hiding it. He hoped Iruka felt the same. They hadn’t discussed going public with their relationship -- or as public as shinobi ever went with relationships. Still, marriages were a thing of public record, and as far as he was concerned he and Iruka were all-but there. 

“Kakashi.” 

His pulse sped up and he reflected, amused at the thought, that if he’d had a tail it would’ve been wagging. “Iruka.” 

“What are you doing here?” The pleasure on the younger man’s face faded. “Are you leaving early?”

“No, no,” Kakashi assured, stepping closer, ignoring the looks they were garnering. “Just thought we could stop by for ramen on the way home.” 

Iruka looked surprised. Surely, not uneasy?

The grin on his face took on a strained quality as the silence stretched. “No?” 

Iruka took the last step to bring them into contact, hand on his arm as he leaned in, quickly brushing his lips against Kakashi’s cheek. “Definitely, yes,” he whispered, smiling, uncaring of the whispers that were starting up around them. 

They took their time to reach Ichiraku. It reminded Kakashi of three years ago. He hadn’t let himself think about the good times too often, had convinced himself there was nothing to remember, but he did remember this. He remembered listening to Iruka as he talked about his work, his kids, the pranks they would pull and how they had yet to match the little demon he had been at their age. He loved hearing those stories most of all. 

Ayame got actual tears in her eyes when she saw them together again and refused to charge them for the meal so Iruka ordered several bottles of alcohol and dessert to offset what they weren’t being charged. 

It was the best day he could remember in a long while. Kakashi could almost ignore the ANBU shadowing them. 

And then Naruto walked into Ichiraku.

Kakashi set his sake cup down slowly, watching as the blond stopped dead. He stared, gaze icing over as it settled on the silver-haired man sitting next to Iruka and Kakashi felt his guts curdle. Iruka glanced up, sensing something wrong and spotted the kid.

“Naruto!” He stood excitedly, but paused halfway, smile straining at the cold expression on Naruto’s face. 

Naruto glanced at him, but turned back to Kakashi, and bowed shortly. “Hokage-sama,” he greeted curtly, before shifting his attention to Iruka. “Sensei, I need to talk to you.” He didn’t look at Kakashi. “Somewhere else. I’m not in the mood for ramen.”

That was certainly a first. He didn’t think Naruto had ever uttered those words before. Kakashi didn’t move, didn’t breathe as Iruka shifted, expression strained. “That’s not a bad idea.” He looked at Kakashi. “We need to talk to you too, Naruto.”

The blond continued to ignore Kakashi. “Why?” His eyes narrowed. “Why are you with the Hokage, sensei?” he asked softly.

Iruka swallowed and Kakashi stood, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Naruto-”

“No,” the kid said simply. He looked at Kakashi, gaze grim. “I’ll talk to Iruka-sensei alone.”

This was exactly what he’d been hoping they could avoid. But Kakashi wasn’t one to believe in good fortune. Having Iruka back was already more luck than he deserved. “Not gonna happen,” he said evenly.

Naruto flushed angrily and stalked forward, grabbing Iruka’s arm and pulling him away from Kakashi. “Sensei,” he whispered furiously. “What are you thinking!?”

“Naruto-”

The kid groaned. “Why?” he demanded pleadingly. “After everything--” He forced himself to stop and take a breath, trying to calm down. Good thing, they were getting looks from the other patrons and Ayame-chan was wringing her hands. It was kind of hard to fly under the radar as the Hokage. Bad enough his ANBU were privy to everything he did.

“Naruto.” Iruka’s voice was carefully even. Soothing. “I’d rather this hadn’t happened here. I wasn’t expecting …” He sighed. “We need to talk. But not here.”

Naruto swallowed and looked away. He breathed out sharply and shook his head as though to clear it. “Sorry. Sorry, I know.” He looked at Kakashi, gaze considerably less hostile. On a scale of one to ten? One being ready to reach into the Copy-Nin’s chest and rip his heart out then crush the pulsing muscle with his bare hands, and ten being BFF’s? Naruto had jumped to a solid three. There was progress. “I need to speak with you alone first, Kakashi-sensei.”

He nodded and Iruka sighed. “Not again with you two. Kakashi ...”

Kakashi leaned close and bussed the chuunin’s cheek despite the audience, making him grumble and flush. “Don’t worry, we’ll be good.”

Iruka glanced at Naruto and the blond rolled his eyes -- that was a good sign -- and nodded in agreement before pulling the chuunin into a quick hug.

 

“I have to admit,” Kakashi said, throwing an arm over the bench, “you’re reacting a lot better than I expected. I figured you’d go right for the throat.”

They hadn’t gone far, but maybe far enough that Iruka wouldn’t hear the worst that Naruto would have to say to him. Kakashi didn’t doubt that it would be terrible. He didn’t look at the blond as the kid stood off to the side, arms crossed, staring into the distance.

Naruto snorted. “I nearly did, but you came prepared.” He nodded at the hitae-ate that was protecting the Hokage’s neck rather than its usual place covering the sharingan. 

Kakashi’s lips quirked. Well, the full Hokage regalia was cumbersome enough without adding the hitae-ate to the mix. He cleared his throat as the blond’s lips twitched in unwilling amusement. “You haven’t said,” he prompted, “why you’re being so composed about this whole thing.” Because Naruto was being composed, despite the little scene at Ichiraku. 

The blond sighed and sat, letting his head fall back onto the support of the bench, the tension draining out of him very suddenly. “I already knew,” he revealed with a groan. “God, I couldn’t believe it when I heard. I nearly came right back and took your head off.” 

_Yeah, that sounds more like him_ , Kakashi thought, grimly amused.

The blond grimaced. “But Old Man Jiraiya stopped me.”

Kakashi looked skyward. It seemed he owed Jiraiya a bottle of sake. Possibly a lifetime supply of it. 

“He said he’d known you a long time. And that you’d never volunteered for honeypot missions. That you hate them.” Naruto pursed his lips in disgust. The kid wasn’t a fan of those missions either, and - thankfully - he’d never been given one. He was too honest, too blunt for them. 

Kakashi nodded greeting to a passing shinobi but did not say anything, not wanting to interrupt.

“He said that he was surprised when he found out you’d accepted the mission with Iruka-sensei because he knew you were always kind of weird about him.” 

_Weird? _Kakashi had never been _weird_ about anyone in his life. He’d been curious about Iruka, that was all. And how had the hell had legendary sannin been privy to that? Good old Jiraiya. Despite not living in the village the man possessed an unseemly amount of knowledge about the going-ons of Konoha, classified or not.__

__“Anyway, he said that he knew you. That what you felt for Iruka-sensei was real. That helped me come to terms with you two being together again.”_ _

__Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “The scene at Ichiraku, that was you having come to terms with it?”_ _

__Naruto grinned and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, it kinda just hit me all over again when I saw you with him. Kinda re-lived the last time we were all together, you know?”_ _

__“Yeah.” Kakashi didn’t look at the blond. “So … you’re okay with …?”_ _

__The deep, heartfelt sigh the kid let out didn’t make Kakashi feel any better._ _

__“I guess I have to be, I don’t want to make Iruka-sensei sad.”_ _

__“No, nor I,” Kakashi assured. “Naruto, I know you don’t have a reason to believe me, but this is real. You asked me once if I loved Iruka.” He looked at Naruto directly. “I do,” he said simply. “And I’m more sorry than I can ever say for not recognizing that sooner.”_ _

__“You were pretty stupid,” the kid agreed brutally._ _

__Kakashi snorted, glad, so damn glad that Naruto was willing to forgive. Because he wouldn’t have been. He would never be kind enough to forgive anyone who hurt those most precious to him._ _

__“Are you two done with your posturing?” Iruka called from a few yards behind them. He was standing under the shadow of a large willow, the sunlight dappling his uniform as it streamed through the leaves. He’d been watching them for a few minutes._ _

__He and Naruto shared a wry grin and turned as one. “All set.”_ _

__“Done, sensei.”_ _

__“Great. Come to dinner. I invited Sakura-chan, Naruto. She said she’d bring a few other friends of yours.”_ _

__“Really?” The kid practically skipped over to Iruka. “Thanks, sensei!”_ _

__Dinner with friends and family. Such a perfectly ordinary thing. Ordinary for others anway, it wasn’t something that had ever been part of Kakashi’s life. He joined them, listening idly to the pleasant chatter as they made their leisurely way home, trying to name the strange feeling that was ballooning in his chest. The feeling that expanded until it left room for nothing else._ _

__Happiness. He’d never thought such happiness existed, had never known it could be for him._ _

__Iruka turned to him, eyebrow raised in question at his continued silence. Kakashi shook his head, unable to verbalize any of it. “Okay?” the other man asked quietly, frowning slightly as Naturo droned on._ _

__Kakashi reached forward and took Iruka’s hand, ignoring the surprised, pleased look the other man shot him, and let himself finally believe he could come in from the cold. “Never better,” he answered.__

> ___excerpt:_ **The Presence of Love**  
>  by Samuel Taylor Coleridge  
> 
> 
> You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light,  
>  Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve  
>  On rippling Stream, or cloud-reflecting Lake.  
>  And looking to the Heaven, that bends above you,  
>  How oft! I bless the Lot that made me love you.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, I'm kinda sad that I'm finished with this story :(  
> It's not entirely complete yet, there is one more thing I wanted to add, but it would only be a short epilogue and probably not soon. 
> 
> If you stuck it out this long I hope you enjoyed the ride!


End file.
